The Wilted Rose
by Phanatic01
Summary: One night Christine Daaé turns to prayer to make some good to happen in her life. But she is not alone for a masked man, a masked man who knew her late Father as his music teacher, was also present. He offers her singing lessons and she immediantly accepts thinking that he is her answered prayer from heaven. But is he what he seems to be? ALW/Leroux/Kopit influences.R&R. ON HIATUS.
1. Christine's answer

Christine Daaé was praying in the Sainte-Chapelle on one especially cold winter night. Who knew what Christine was praying about? She herself didn't exactly know. She was scared and alone in the world and all she wanted was someone there beside her, to comfort her. But there was no one; she had no living relatives.

Before her luck had been turned around by a kind man who had heard her singing for money in the streets, she had wondered around Paris like a lost cause. The only thoughts that had passed through her mind were _'my poor Mother and Father_,' or _'where is the next meal coming from?_'

Thankfully all that was behind her, she now had a life and a promising career as an opera singer at the Palais Garnier. Although with her beauty and her kindness, she was immediately un-liked amongst her co-workers. The Prima Donna named La Carlotta, a sadistic and spiteful woman, gave a natural loathing towards Christine. Maybe because Carlotta knew that she was getting older and she knew that she was coming to the end of her reign or maybe because she was jealous of Christine's looks and talent. Nevertheless, after only being with the company a couple of days, Carlotta had already turned everyone against Christine.

It had been six months since she had joined the Opera and she had already had her ups and downs. Her ups being that she got the chance to sing in the chorus of a few performances lately and that people have been getting more interested in her voice and potential. Her downs being that no one had spoken to her, not once.

Christine prayed for some good to happen. She had prayed for this to happen every night since this business began. She was alone in the chapel and that was the way she liked it. She needed solitude from the rest of the world. She closed her eyes tight and prayed whilst gripping her prayer beads a little too tightly. Her private thoughts and prayers began to seep out of her mouth becoming a mumble. She was so frustrated with the way she had been treated and she longed for someone to understand what she had been through. A tear or two ran down her face as she cowed her head forward in deep prayer. A few of her long dark curls fell forward also. She placed her beads in her pocket as she finished her final prayer of the night.

She opened her eyes and let the tears flood out. Her only companions were the lifeless figures depicted in the stain glass windows around her. She could hardly see them though due to the light. She could see enough with the moonlight beaming in through the windows and the hundreds of brightly lit candles around her. This place, in fact any place, was different in the darkness. It was more mysterious and peaceful. Christine wept onto the stone floor and made her cries louder so that maybe someone in heaven would hear her; her Father perhaps.

"Mademoiselle."

Christine jolted up and looked around her. She could see no one within the given light. She frantically stood up and grabbed a hold of the nearest candle. She held it trembling next to her face. She wiped her tears with her free hand and then tried to steady the other.

The voice was not someone she knew; however she knew hardly anyone due to her being disliked. She did not know this voice, yet she wasn't completely afraid of it. It was man's voice and it had a rich tone to it, much like her Father's. Christine helplessly made an assumption in her mind that it was her Father speaking to her from beyond the grave, but she shook that idea right out of her mind just as she heard how silly it sounded.

"I am sorry to frighten you like this, Mademoiselle. But on an extra note, I do not think you wish to have the flame that close to your face."

Christine turned a couple of times on the spot and then peered at the flame beside her. She did as the voice had said and removed it away from her face but kept it in front of her so she could see. "Who is there? Who are you, Monsieur?"

A noise echoed a little bit through the hall. A laugh. "Just a stranger and an admirer."

Christine began to panic slightly and her breathing increased. She started to cautiously move around. She was panicking because this stranger could she her and yet she could not see him. She also did not like the way he had said 'admirer'.

"Where are you? Show yourself, Monsieur." She demanded.

"Do not fret, Christine, I am an admirer of your work and-"

"What?" Christine froze to the spot. "What did you call me?"

"Christine, is your name, is it not?"

She laughed trying to comfort herself. "How is it that you have come to know my name, Monsieur?"

"I have seen you perform at the opera."

Christine huffed a sigh of relief and realised how paranoid she was. She laughed to herself and said between halted sobs and sniffles, "Oh. Oh, of course you have." She sat down on the floor again and placed the candle down. "But I must say that you have caught me at a disadvantage, Monsieur."

"How so, Christine?"

Christine spoke softly towards the stranger as if he were already an acquaintance. "For one thing, Monsieur, you know my name but I do not know yours. Also I would appreciate it if you were not to call me by my forename, we are not formally known to each other after all." She paused, waiting for his compliance. Once she heard it she began again. "Monsieur, forgive me if I come across rude, but I really thought I was the only one in the chapel. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts." Another pause. "And that is why I will have to ask you to please leave me be, Monsieur."

She had to wait a few moments for a reply. "Forgive me, please Chris - er - Mademoiselle. I would not have intruded if it were not for my eagerness to meet you."

Christine stared into the burn of the candle. "How did you find me, Monsieur?" She tilted her head to the side.

"Pardon, Mademoiselle?"

"Oh, I mean, Monsieur, how did you know that I was in here? This cannot be a chance meeting."

She had to wait another few moments before a reply. "I did not know that you would be here. I was already in here when you entered, but let me say sorry again if I startled you, Mademoiselle."

"Hmm." She mumbled to herself silently and then she starred directly into a spot of darkness as if she knew where this figure stood. "Your name, Monsieur?"

"My name is ... not important, Mademoiselle. Part of the reason for my eagerness to meet you is that I was a close friend of your Father, may he rest in peace, and he had told me of the little girl he had. A little girl who had the voice of an angel." He paused. "But I see that his little angel is all grown up now." Christine gave a half-hearted smile as the voice continued. "Oh do forgive me if I have upset you or brought back any unwanted memories in any way, Mademoiselle."

"It is fine." Christine stood up again, puzzled by the natural lack of formality that this bizarre conversation held. "I do not mean any disrespect but I do not like talking to just a nameless voice, Monsieur. Could you please come into the light?"

"I do not think that is a good idea, besides it would eliminate the illusion of the secret admirer, Mademoiselle."

"Please? I would appreciate it, I would feel more at ease, Monsieur."

The voice sighed and said sharply with a hint of bitterness, "Very well."

He stepped out of the darkness slowly and Christine immediately looked over every inch of him that came into the light. First his feet and then his legs and then the rest of his body, in an orderly fashion. She had noticed that he was dressed very formally in black; a little too formal for the likes of a chapel. He had on a tailored suit which fitted to his shape. And then came his face, although it actually didn't. Christine gave a short intake of breath in surprise and then composed herself fast after she realised what she did.

He wore a mask.

It was a brilliant shade of white and it strangely enough covered all of his face; except for his mouth and chin. Yet from what Christine saw, he couldn't have been older than thirty-five. Under this circumstance, or even any circumstance, this all seemed rather odd. Christine stepped forward to greet him; never taking her eyes off his mask. She couldn't help but think about how she didn't see him when she came in. Because of the hundreds of candles there were only a few dark corners, all of which she presumed to be empty.

He held up a hand to stop her in her tracks. The voice seemed to sigh, a sad sigh. "I am sorry we had to meet this way, Mademoiselle."

"The mask." Christine breathed.

"Yes, I know it seems intimidating but it is part of wanting to keep my identity hidden, Mademoiselle."

"I do not see any point in doing that, Monsieur. If you do not mind me saying; your, or any other identity in that matter, does not need to be hidden."

"From the rest of the world it does."

"What?"

He raised the same hand again to silence her. "Do not ask questions that you do not wish to know the answers to, Mademoiselle. You will understand soon, once your ready you will understand it. And then you will finally see the world as I see it. You will see my version of this pitiful world. Once you become a success," he raised a finger which slightly taunted Christine, "then you will know of what I speak of."

"Your _world_, Monsieur?"

He raised his hands and looked up. "My world of music, Mademoiselle, and all its wonders."

Christine's breathing started to get unbalanced. This incredible stranger was making quite an impression on her. She stared at him and took a couple of steps forward. "Music, Monsieur?"

He kept his hands raised while lowering his head with a smirk on his face. "Yes. You will learn the secrets that music hides. You will understand when you are ready." He lowered his hands and took a step closer to Christine.

Christine frowned. "Ready for what?"

"Why, for your debut oh course!"

Christine tried to contain a very happy yet confused smile from spreading all across her face. "What do you mean, Monsieur? Who would want to hear me? No one at the Opera I know, even like me let alone wish to hear me sing. I am far better off just staying in the background and leaving the stage to people who are worthier."

"You speak kind words though your tone is bitter, Mademoiselle."

"Oh course it is bitter." She snapped. She then forgot her place as she blurted out really quite fast, "No one will talk to me, Monsieur and you are the most company I have had in a long time. In fact you are the only person I have uttered a word to off the stage in..." She trailed off as she realised she had been speaking out of line to an almost complete stranger. "Monsieur, I am sorry. I am sorry that you have to listen to me like this. I am not like this. It is because of what I just said. I am not ... I am just not used to company. I do not-"

"You do not know how to react with another human being."

Christine couldn't believe that he understood her. And to make matters more unbelievable; he was a stranger to her.

"And do not worry, dear child, about concealing your identity with me."

"I am not, if one is talking about concealing one's identity then that would be you, Monsieur, not I."

The voice laughed once again. "Oh do not worry yourself about my revealing myself to you, Mademoiselle." His humor left him. "I do not feel comfortable with many people, particularly strangers." He sighed but then continued as if he had not said a word off subject. "You have a great talent. A talent that needs to be shared with the world."

"Only the world does not want me, it wants La Carlotta."

The voice sighed again this time sounding exasperated. "Oh you mean that _woman_? The one who prances around the stage like a mongrel on show and possesses the voice of a dying cat?"

Christine sniggered. "Yes. Yes I do, Monsieur."

The stranger raised one eyebrow under his mask and said while laughing along with her. "Do I amuse you, Mademoiselle?"

Christine looked into his face and replied. "Yes."

The stranger grinned. "Hmm." He looked down and looked back up and in that flash his expression had completely changed. "La Carlotta's time will come to pass. Soon, I imagine. And then you, you will be the new star."

She laughed at the very thought. "Ha! A star, Monsieur?" She then became very serious. "It is my dream, but La Carlotta is right about one thing; I do not have the voice. I could never-"

"Never say never, my dear." He paused only for a second before continuing. "May I say that you have an exquisite voice?"

Christine smiled to herself. A compliment, at long last. "Why, thank you Monsieur. And may _I_ say that you are the first person to say such a thing to me."

"I do not believe that for a moment."

She looked down and sighed. She wrapped her arms around herself as the coldness from outside had started to make its way into the building.

"I can teach you."

"Monsieur?" Christine raised her head and her breath caught. "You will ... you will what?"

"I will teach you." He repeated. "I am a musician and I was taught by the very best when I was a student."

"Father." She breathed.

"He was a brilliant man. And now I will teach you and you will have a voice likenened to an angel's."

Christine was overjoyed and couldn't help the tears of happiness that were welling up in her brown glistening eyes to be let loose. "Oh, but I have no way to pay you the amount needed, Monsieur!"

"Do not worry about money. I will teach you for free."

"For ... free? Oh! Thank you, Monsieur!"

This masked man was watching her intensely. He had not know of her beauty and innocence before this meeting. He saw potential in her, great potential, she just needed the encouragement. He then saw the tears that she was shedding and hesitantly edged forward until he was standing right in front of her.

What he didn't expect happened next. She thanked him once more and then she threw her arms around him. As she did this he gasped very softly but the became rigid. He did not try to embrace her back though, he didn't know exactly how to react to this.

Once Christine had pulled away she watched him with bated breath, and he did the same. There was a connection between them, almost immediately they both knew it. Something had passed between their eyes, a kind of understanding. The stranger, although his gloved hand was shaking, slowly raised a hand and wiped her tears away.

They both smiled, only for a moment though as he then said. "We start tomorrow."

He turned to leave but Christine stopped him. "Wait! Where shall I meet you for lessons?"

"Do not worry about that. I will find you at the Opera house. Oh, and I would appreciate it if you do not tell anyone about this meeting or our lessons to be."

She nodded; beguiled with his kindness. He then turned to leave and Christine watched as her answer from heaven disappeared into the darkness.


	2. A friendly face

Christine woke with hope, something that she had not come across in a very long time. She had woken bright and early, much earlier than any of her co-workers had - in fact all of them were still sleeping. Christine rubbed her eyes, yawned and stretched out on her small bed. She had a huge smile on her face. She felt like an idiot, and she must have looked one too.

She got out of bed and got dressed. She wandered over to the little dressing table in their dormitory room and sat down. It really was quite a handsome little mirror; it had candles either side of it and roses, though slightly wilted by the winter air, woven through the holes around the edges. She lightly touched the crumpled petals and then looked at herself. She looked as pale as a corpse with her ivory skin and full lips. Her hair, messy as it was, was still beautiful and glossy. Her hair was very dark brown, almost black in some lights. It almost came down to her waist now but she always wore it in long ringlets tied up with one black ribbon.

Her eyes still held the excitement of the previous night.

She sighed and her thoughts turned to her mysterious answer from heaven. He was now her teacher, her guide. She smiled as she started to tie her hair up. Christine wondered about him and what he meant about her understanding in time. She wondered about that mask; what could he possibly be hiding under there?

It didn't matter that very moment for so she was happy. So very happy. She started to hum to herself as she made her way downstairs and into the backstage of the theatre. It was still very early yet backstage there were people hard at work already. Christine mindlessly made her way through the props and scenery, singing to herself all the way. She twirled a couple of times too. A few people stopped and stared at her.

"Hey love, why don't you twirl over in this direction and I can show you some of my moves?" A voice from above echoed. It was Joseph Buquet. A vulgar middle-aged man who spent more time drinking than working, or anything else for that matter.

Christine immediately stopped at stared above her. He caught her eye and he whistled at her. She had always been disgusted by him and the way he acted around some of the ballerinas. "I am not one of those sluts of a dancer who jiggles and thrusts their selves around for the likes of you. I am better than that." She boldly snapped at him.

He laughed, it wasn't a nice laugh as it sent shivers down Christine's spine. "No matter. No skirt is better - always gets in the way you see. And aren't we the little chatter box today? Normally you ignore my-" he tried to look sophisticated, "-charm."

He laughed again but this time one of the other men working by him had thrown a prop at him and shut him up. Christine giggled under her breath. "Leave the kid alone, Buquet. She's harmless."

Joseph Buquet took a gulp of the alcohol that he had in his gritty hand and then threw it at the other man. They started arguing and Christine thought this to be the opportune moment to slip away, and so she did.

She was stepping away backwards when she suddenly bumped into someone. She quickly turned on the spot to find a servant girl cleaning and organising costumes that the cast had rudely left out. Rude to her anyway.

"Do forgive me Mademoiselle." Spoke the girl. She had a timid voice with a strong cockney accent. Her face was lowered though and would not meet Christine's eyes. It was quite a pretty face too, maybe a few years younger than Christine, but it was hidden behind dirt and a few strands of loose blond hair.

"It is alright. It was my fault, do not apologise." The girl smiled weakly and then returned to her work. Christine watched her. "What is your name?"

The girl turned around and fiddled with the broom in her hands. "Meg, Mademoiselle, Meg Giry"

"Meg, I like that name." She smiled kindly at the girl. "I am Christine Daaé."

Meg still played with the broom in her hands. "Yes, I know Mademoiselle, I've watched you on stage. You're amazing. Your voice is incredible and even though you're in the back it doesn't mean you're not 'eard." Suddenly dread crept over her face. "Oh, I'm sorry Mademoiselle. It's not my place to tell you what-"

"Meg, it's fine. In fact, I am quite flattered, so thank you." She reassured her gratitude with a smile.

Christine stood there smiling at her and Meg managed a smile back. "That Buquet gave you a bit of cheek back there didn't 'e, Mademoiselle?"

"Christine, call me Christine. And yes, he did."

"I wish I could 'ave the guts to do something like that." She started to sweep before adding, "Christine?" She smiled down at the young girl, waiting for her to continue. "You know you're not at all like what the other girls say about you ... if you don't mind me saying so."

"I do not mind at all and you should not believe everything you hear, Meg. I do not really know what they say about me, but I know it is not at all nice. I have not done anything wrong though, it is unfair sometimes how they treat me."

"Sounds like to me, Mademoiselle, _er_, Christine, that they're just jealous."

Christine chuckled at her, although Meg showed another uneasy smile towards her. "You are not used to speaking to people are you?"

Meg shook her head slightly. Christine looked Meg over and saw a glimmer of herself in her. After all; she was once dressed in rags and made to work to pay the rent, fortunately her luck had changed. But who knew? Maybe Meg might have her luck changed soon too.

Christine then thought about the name; _'Giry'_. She recognised the name almost immediately but couldn't have been able to place it.

"Your name is Giry, yes?" Meg nodded.

"Are you related to Madame Giry? The great ballet instructor?"

Meg nodded again this time raising her head slightly. "Yes, she's my Mother."

"Your Mother?" Christine was quite shocked. "Then why are you not learning from her?"

Meg lowered her head and moved away from Christine. "Because she said that I weren't good enough. My feet were too stumpy, apparently."

Christine sighed at her. "Oh, what kind of Mother would say that?"

"A normal one would. Obviously you don't know that."

Christine shied away from that comment. Her Mother was with her Father up in heaven. She never knew her, but her Father always used to say that she reminded him a lot of her.

Christine decided to leave Meg to her work and while doing so she noticed that Joseph Buquet and his 'friend' were still arguing. She cringed when she looked at them.

"Wait, Christine!" She turned to see that Meg had rushed over to her. "I ain't suppose to saying anything but ... I over'eard the managers talking the other day and looks like we've got ourselves a new patron!"

"A new patron?"

"Yeah, I 'eard 'e's named Raoul; got a brother named Philippe. De Chagny's the family name. 'E's some Vicomte or something."

Christine had a girlish smile frozen on her face. "Christine?" Asked Meg, confused by her strange behaviour.

"Raoul."

"Yeah, what about 'im?" Meg crossed her arms and stared at Christine. She thought that she was crazy at that moment.

"I know him. Well, I _knew_ him."

"Knew?"

"Yes. You see when I was about ten, my Father and I travelled around performing as a duo to people in a hope to obtain some money. He played many instruments but he always preferred the violin. I sang with him, nothing extravagant just some folk songs. Anyway, one day a well dressed boy came through the streets and stopped to listen to us. I actually became quite embarrassed because he was rather handsome and he kept looking upon me. This continued for about a week until after one performance he actually came to speak to me. He said I had a beautiful voice and that I should think about taking lessons and turning professional.

"He called me something, a name, a lovely name, although I cannot quite remember that part. He kept giving me beautiful wild flowers and he said that each one could not master the beauty of me..." Christine trailed off and laughed. "We were only young. I hardly think that he would recognise me now though."

"There's always a chance."

Just then a marble bust fell to the floor smashing as soon as it made contact with the floor. Christine and Meg both yelped as they looked at the mess. There were pieces of shattered marble everywhere. Christine continued to look at the mess, but Meg was wandering forward glancing up from where the fall happened.

A man walked up from behind them and exclaimed in a booming voice, "Which one of you wee lasses did this, hmm?"

Christine looked petrified. "Um, we did not do this, Monsieur. It fell just now as we were standing."

The man gave her a scornful look and Christine tried not to look at his eyes. Meg was still looking upwards as if there was something up there of great interest.

"We did not do this. Honest." Christine protested again.

The man scratched his greasy hair and then rubbed his nose afterward. "Cool your jets, girl. Now tell me what happened?"

Christine looked over her shoulder at Meg who wasn't anywhere to be seen. She frantically looked around her. The man gave her a strange look. "Excuse me? Mademoiselle?" She didn't hear him but continued to look for Meg like a madman. "Excuse me?"

"Where is Meg?"

The man annoyingly scratched him head again. "Who?"

"The girl who was just here." She pointed at where the bust fell. "She was right there, a moment ago." Christine frowned and continued to search. "Meg? Meg!"

"Up here!" A tiny voice cried out from above.

Christine looked up and puffed out a sigh of relief to see Meg standing up on the platform where the bust had fallen from. "Why are you up there?"

"I'm just looking for something."

Christine nodded, even though she was sure that Meg wasn't even looking. She then turned to face the man who had a very confused look on his face. "So tell me what happened."

"Well I had just started talking to Meg-"

"About what?"

"Um, about the Vi - er..." she paused remembering Meg saying to keep the news hushed, "...about an old friend that I have not seen in years."

Christine was cut short of her sentence for another prop - this time being a foam column - tumbled over the edge and onto the ground below. Christine gave out a genuine scream this time for it nearly landed on top of her. Meg on the other hand was staring at the place where it fell. That place as surrounded by shadows; it was hard to see anything there. The man huffed and went to pick the column up.

Christine was looking at Meg but she spoke to the man. "Does this happen often around here?"

The man raised his eyebrows. "You could say that."

Christine turned her attention to Meg, who was still staring into the shadows. "What is it, Meg?" She called out.

Meg looked both shocked and concerned. "He's here."

The man dropped the column and stared at Meg. "What?"

Christine looked back and forth between the two and sighed exasperatedly. "Who, Meg?"

Meg finally looked down at Christine but the rest of her body was still frozen to the spot. "The Phantom of the opera."


	3. The legend

The opera house was one beautiful piece of architecture. It had a grand exterior and within its doors was not any different. As you entered you were met by the imposing staircase leading up into two different directions. It was certainly the place to be. And the theatre its self; well, you couldn't have seen a more splendid sight. Everything was in place; from the velvet crimson red chairs to the also red curtain. The richness of the red and the gold came together to produce one fine display of exquisiteness. And not to mention the famous chandelier with its diamond shingles and gold coating. It made the finishing touch to this picture. The opera house was one beautiful piece of architecture; all excluding what lay beneath it.

What lay beneath was not beautiful nor was it enlightening. It was the catacombs of the opera house. A cemetery. It was dark and dismal underground, you could hardly see anything. The only thing that might have passed for beauty there was the lake which ran through the catacombs. But even it's one shot for beauty was failed by the sewage that oozed through it. The cobbled walkway which ran either side of the lake were always crammed with mice trying to scratch their way through. A few old props were kept there too. Such as an unfinished painting or a broken prop which was deemed too expensive to throw away but too discarded to sell.

No one was allowed down there; no one wished to go down there. There were rumours of an Opera Ghost living in the catacombs which terrorised the living upstairs if they didn't behave. This Opera Ghost was also known as The Phantom of the Opera. Some said that he could move through shadows and darkness, and some said that his eyes were like fire and would burn you if you looked into them. Yet others didn't believe this legend; they thought it was silly nonsense thought up by the caretakers to frighten the younger generation. The fact that they chose to over look was that whenever someone was to venture down there, they would not return again.

There were rumours of the Opera Ghost being disfigured. There were rumours of his face being too horrific to look at that you would faint at the very sight at it.

There were also rumours of music, emotional yet frightening music, that floated through the winding corridors. No one knew exactly where it came from but those who believed knew _who _was playing it.

The Opera Ghost had a lair in the very heart of the catacombs in which he liked to keep to himself. He both loved and loathed the solitude that the world had provided him with. The whole lair was filled to the brim with candles and the scent was overwhelming. It lit up the lair and was the Ghost's only chance of light from beneath. He tried to surround himself with beautiful things to make his situation and his face less of a bother. It never really worked though because every day he woke up with the reminder that the world hated him. The reminder was upon his face; his deformed face. His lair was also surrounded by shattered full length mirrors which he had smashed in one of his rage consumed outbursts.

His only company was his music. He must have known every note to every Opera performed upstairs. He could have matched a name with every voice and instrument used. He also composed his own music which was much darker and mysterious than anything anyone had ever heard before. He didn't care, he took pride in his work. He poured his feelings and memories into his music; even if that meant reliving past traumas.

There were two things that this Opera Ghost did; one was stay out of anyone's way and not cause trouble, and the other was cause havoc above. The only way he communicated with anyone was through a series of letters. He wrote these to the managers of the Palais Garnier. After each letter was written he always sealed it with red wax; the colour of blood.

These letters would contain many things. For example; he might congratulate them on a fine evening performance or he might threaten them if something did not please him. The managers would have not thought twice about this and did as he commanded; yet as time passed, the letter numbers decreased and the managers took no notice in them. They still kept a look out just in case he took a foot out of line.

On this day, the Phantom was brooding away in his lair, pacing up and down the corridors and steps. He was in one of his tempers again. This one being more serious than the last. He stormed into his lair and with a great deal of power pushed a few candle holders over. This resulted in the flames being put out by the water and their smoke to rise slowly. The lair also seemed less bright now which didn't really matter seeing as he preferred darkness.

He was frustrated because of his unfinished masterpiece. He could not find the right notes. The Phantom sat down at his organ and began to play his melody. It was filled with anger and soul. He closed his eyes as he played to make sure that he was really understanding the music. He moved along with the music as if it were controlling him; it was almost like he was possessed.

He kept playing up till the part in which he was struggling a great deal with. He tried to continue the tune with improvising some possible chords, however what ever he tried didn't fit. He growled under his teeth and opened his eyes. He stared at the organ keys and continued to try to find the next part. As each improvisation failed he got more and more angry. His fingers pressed down on the keys hard and he clenched his teeth. His playing speed kept increasing until one moment he suddenly stopped, slammed his hands down on the keys and brought his face down to rest on them. He then wept very angry sobs and he clenched his loose black hair - what was left of it that is. He stayed there for a while, just crying to himself. Alone.


	4. Ridicule and music

Christine stood anxiously playing with one of her many dark curls as her mind was revisiting the events of today. She held herself with her free hand and gazed into nothingness as the rest of the cast prepared to start rehearsals for this weeks performance of Faust.

Christine ignored anyone who spoke to her for she was in a world of her own. She stood motionless in the busy bustle of people who were trying to get past her. She didn't notice them, even when they became impatient and simply pushed past her.

She kept replaying the words that Meg had said, _The Phantom Of The Opera. _She literally shuddered at the very thought of those words. Christine had only been here a few short months yet she knew of the legend and feared it. Although, being a young woman who always longed to be practical, Christine didn't diverge her mind from the idea that the ghost wasn't real. She so longed for her home not to be haunted by a shadow of a name. Except; that was all it was to her, a name. But after the little incidence with the props, she had begun to think otherwise.

"You." Snapped a voice, with a thick French accent, that startled Christine out of her train of thought.

Christine blinked a few times and looked around to then notice that Madame Giry, Meg's Mother, was staring at her. Her hands were on her hips and she didn't look very pleased.

"Mademoiselle Daaé, are you so confident in what you are doing that you feel no need in rehearsals any more? Do you feel free in skipping them?"

Christine frowned at her. Madame Giry looked a great deal like her daughter; they had the same eyes and face shape. She was surprised that she had never noticed the uncanny resemblance until today. They seemed almost perfectly alike, except in Madame Giry's eyes there wasn't sweetness, there was strictness. She had, what Christine supposed was, very fine light brown hair that she had tied up in one single pleat, which she then twirled round to make a tight bun.

She blinked at her and opened her mouth as if to reply but then she changed her mind and silently nodded. Madame Giry then looked up her and down and tuted. "You will never get any way with that attitude, _enfant_. Now, go."

"Pardon?"

Madame Giry huffed and with one smooth motion pushed the shocked Christine onto the stage. She watched from the wings as the cast assembled onto the stage in full costume. The orchestra below was also getting ready by tuning their instruments. Christine looked down at her costume which consisted of a bright festive clothing and then smoothed out any imperfections that she saw.

Over at the front who was talking to the Maestro was the flaunting Prima Donna of the Opera herself. La Carlotta She was playing Marguerite, the lead role in Faust. She was fully dressed in her costume complete with a long brown wig and her white dress wrapped in black ribbon. She looked as though she was insulting the Maestro due to the expression on his face. Carlotta was also famously known for being eccentric and demanding. Christine raised her eyebrows as she watched Carlotta frantically flap her arms about in mid-air and shout some insulting words at the orchestra players.

Christine shook her head at her and began to get into position. She decided to warm up so she started to harmonise. She was standing alone so she wouldn't have bothered anyone; however her singing caught Carlotta's eye and she stormed over to look Christine right in the eye.

"Why you sing, huh?" She snapped in her Italian accent. She placed her hands on her hips and stared at her, much like Madame Giry had done. "I am trying to rehearse, _stupide_, but I cannot if you sing too! I cannot hear myself over your pathetic whining!"

Christine, frail she looked, could have taken on Carlotta at the best of her. Although, not today. But she summoned the courage to say, "I was warming up and you were shouting at the orchestra, so I would have to say I could not hear you over _your _whining."

Carlotta took her hands off her hips very sharply which made Christine flinch. She became very self-conscious now for everyone was looking at her. Carlotta narrowed her eyes and took a step closer to Christine while pointing a rather chubby finger at her face. In fact she pointed her finger so close to her face that Christine had to slightly turn her head backwards to prevent Carlotta from poking her.

"_Ragazza stupida_." She howled and then continued to scream something in Italian, which sounded a lot like what she was saying to the Maestro. Christine stood there taking the blows from her as everyone watched and whispered.

Christine hesitantly peered around her and saw that the cast had edged forward to see what was going on. When she looked back to Carlotta she saw that she was breathing heavily and she had a wild look in her eye. She made Christine flinch again.

"Why you no listen, huh?" Carlotta said as she grabbed Christine by the arm quite roughly. Carlotta shook her violently a few times and repeated, "Why you no listen?" She then released her grip on Christine who stumbled back slightly. Carlotta stood there towering over her and made a very expressive face in disgust. "Ha, ha!" She exclaimed and waltzed away over to the orchestra again.

Christine was left alone with people sniggering at her. She looked left and right until she saw that people started to mock her. Her breathing increased and she watched in shock as people to do so. She tried to not let people see the tears in her eyes so she ran off the stage, hurt and ridiculed.

She shoved past the back stage crew and a few other people who shouted at her for doing so. No one followed her from the stage but she could hear Carlotta's taunted laughter in the distance. She continued to run until she got to the very last part of backstage, a place where hardly anyone went. She clung to a wooden post and silently cried. This wasn't the first time that Carlotta had expressed her feelings toward Christine but she had never boarded the line of physical contact. She just felt shaken, that was all. She wasn't crying about being screamed at by Carlotta, but instead she was crying about her finally realising how much she was seen as an outcast amongst them.

Her sobs slowly calmed down and began to focus on getting her breathing back to normal. She was interrupted by a sudden sharp chill up her spine. Christine looked up with her nearly dry eyes but couldn't see anyone. She sighed and thought it must have been the wind through a window. She then realised that all the windows near to her were shut. Christine sat up and looked around but still could not see anyone. She then thought that it was one of the cast members playing a cruel yet spooky trick on her.

The chance that her breathing would return to normal was flattened by a hand abruptly touched her on her shoulder. Christine spun round with her hand ready to whack whoever was trying to trick her, but instead her hand was caught in mid attack. She stared at the hand who had a held of her wrist and tried to shake free.

"Get off of me you..." She took a quick glance at who it was and immediately stopped struggling. "Monsieur." She gasped. He realised her and she stood up once again smoothing out any creases that she saw. "Forgive me."

Her masked teacher smiled a small soft smile and nodded. "It was my fault to approach you like that."

Christine tried to wipe away any wetness around her eyes and then laughed to herself. "Why is it that every time we meet I am in tears?" She breathed out another laugh and then sighed.

He titled his head to the side. "Do not fret, child. Now, are you ready for your first lesson?"

Christine frowned but then glanced back towards the direction of the stage. She thought about it for a moment before turning her head back to look upon her teacher. "Yes, Monsieur."

He smiled. "Excellent. Come."

"Wait." He did so and Christine self-consciously rubbed the part of her arm showing her red mark where Carlotta had grabbed her. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere where I can teach in peace."

"Where is that?"

"In a little room where they keep unwanted props and such."

Christine gasped. "Down below?"

He nodded and Christine moved uneasily toward her teacher. "Have you not heard of the legend which circulates around here? There is an Opera Ghost living down there and there are rumors that whoever ventures down will never come up again."

The masked man clicked his tongue once and looked away from Christine. "But think, Mademoiselle. If that were true then how did the rumors start?" Christine didn't know what to say to that. "Do you know what this Ghost looks like?"

"Actually, no, I do not. No one has really told me anything about him, except I know that they fear him greatly."

He looked away from her, but only for a moment. When he turned back to her he didn't waste another second. He carefully took hold of Christine's hand and gently pulled her in his direction. "Come."

He walked away with her in his hand. "But we are not going down there are we?"

He ignored the question but increased his speed. "Come."

They disappeared from sight and then a little figure emerged from behind an old torn curtain. It was Meg. She had followed her when she saw her run off stage but hid when she saw that she wasn't alone. She couldn't believe what she had just seen. "Oh, God. 'E's got Christine." Meg stayed there for a few seconds longer trying to come to terms with what she saw. She knew who the masked man was and she also knew that Christine didn't. "Oh God!" She gasped again as she slowly backed away. "Oh God!"


	5. Lessons

Christine said nothing during the descent below. She gazed at his hand which still held a firm grip on hers. Christine noticed that he seemed to be wearing the same apparel that he was wearing yesterday. She then suddenly became aware that she was still in her costume and picked up one piece of the dress to make sure that the bottom didn't get dirty. Her teacher glanced at her and straight away caught her attention. She stared into his eyes and then at the scenery in front of them. Everything seemed different, seemed murky, like they were slowly journeying into darkness.

He moved his head away from Christine and she did the same. She couldn't see much behind her though that meant that her teacher couldn't see much either. _How could he possibly know where he is going? _Christine thought.

"So, my dear, was your day productive?" Her head turned to look at him again.

"I ... I would not say so, no."

"Hmm, what happened?" He didn't turn his head.

Christine opened her mouth and looked down at her feet but in doing so remembered that she was showing her mark on her arm. She calmly tried to hide it with her sleeve; it barely covered the red mark but it was enough for now. She then realised that she still hadn't answered yet and quickly ignored his question to ask her own. "Can you see where your going?"

He scoffed at that remark and Christine felt a little bit offended. "I know where I am going. But it is natural for you to feel uneasy in not knowing where you are heading." He paused. "And yet you still have not answered my question."

"I am sorry, but I guess I do not wish to talk about it." She sighed and wondered how much further they would have to go. "How was _your_ day, Monsieur?"

He seemed a little shocked when she asked him that. "I would have to say that it was the same as yours."

"Oh." _But I bet it wasn't anything like my day. I do not think you were grabbed by a diva and shook like an earthquake, _thought Christine. "How much further is it?"

"Not far."

"Monsieur, what am I going to get taught first?"

"My, my, we are very inquisitive today are we not?"

Christine shrugged. "I guess so but-"

She was cut off, "We are here."

_Finally, _spoke Christine in her head.

Christine squinted in the darkness and let out some annoyed noises. "Are you sure? I cannot see a thing."

"Hold on." He let go of her hand.

Christine was left alone in the darkness without anything to guide her. There was no light or objects. Fear struck her and she began to hyperventilate. She hated the darkness and it didn't help that she was alone either. She jumped at the sudden light that came from a couple of metres away. It was a candle. She called out to the light. "Monsieur?"

"Wait one moment."

She did so and during which appeared eight or nine more candles. They lit up the room well and Christine could finally get a glimpse of where she was. The walls were cobbled and there were a few cobwebs in some corners. There were also two wide stone pillars standing in the middle of the room, to Christine's surprise they took up most of the space. She saw that there were props too; mainly sheet music. Mountains of sheet music stacked and overflowing in a little cabinet. She walked over to take a look. _This must be the old storage room behind the new one; but why did it take so long to get here? _She thought.

Christine stood with her hands clasped behind her back and stared at the cabinet. She then turned around to find a gorgeous clean grand piano with a faded golden candle holder in the middle of its top. Her eyes were then drawn to her teacher who was standing by it with one gloved hand resting on the top.

"Shall we begin?" She nodded and he ushered her forward.

He sat down and began to play for her. She watched in awe as his fingers flew across the keys so professionally. Christine smiled. "You remind me of my Father when you play."

He didn't look up. "I do?"

She titled her head to one side. "Yes, in a way you do." She paused and stepped closer to him. She didn't take her eyes off his playing. "What should I call you, Monsieur?" When he stopped playing and gave her an odd look, she knew that he didn't quite get what she had meant. "What I mean is, I do not know your name. I only ask for I do not really want to continue with calling you Monsieur."

"You may call me Erik, but Monsieur when it is necessary."

She thought the name Erik to be very fitting of him. "Well then I suppose you may call me Christine, but Mademoiselle when necessary." She smiled. "Erik," she said, his name sounding foreign on her tongue, "do you have a last name?"

"_Monsieur_." He corrected her. She tried to hide a smile. "And do last names really matter when it comes to practising? That is not the main objective here."

Christine shrugged. "I suppose you are right." _But I would still like to know anyway..._

They then dove into the lesson with her singing and him taking notes. Erik watched in amazement as she sung. Never had he known someone who had that caress-like tone, he didn't even believe such person existed. He watched as she easily pushed the beautiful sound past her mouth barrier. He thought that she had the voice of an angel. Erik helped her with by playing along on the piano.

Once they stopped for a break Christine sat on the piano seat and lightly stroked the keys. Erik, who was standing silently in the corner, was watching her closely. He was analysing her every move.

"How long do you think it will take for my voice to become fully developed, Monsieur? I mean, I do not think I could make my voice become something of Caroline Carvalho's. She has a great talent, but I could never be a greater Marguerite than she was." She paused."My Father was inspired by her voice."

"Yes she does have a talent, so there is no wonder why your Father was inspired by her. But you must not think the worst, Christine. You will be comfortable with your voice all in good time."

She smiled at the fact that he had said her name but felt nervous all the while for she somehow knew that he was watching her. She could almost feel his eyes pressing upon her back. She stared at the keys again only this time she began to play. The piece she was playing was a little song that she had sung when she was performing with her Father. It was no such playing compared to Erik's, although she tried to put in as much effort as possible. She wanted to impress him but in doing so she messed her playing up. This resulted in Christine clenching her fists together and starting all over again.

"What is that you are playing?" Asked Erik.

Christine was completely focused on playing, well trying to play, but replied slowly with, "It is a song that my Father composed. It is originally for violin so that is why it does not sound quite right. I used to sing along with it with my Father accompanying me."

Erik slowly walked over to the piano and rested a hand again onto the top. He kept staring between Christine and her playing. He closed his eyes shortly and breathed in the music. "Sing it."

"Pardon?" She stopped playing to look at him.

He opened his eyes and ushered her to keep playing. "Please sing."

"I do not know if I remember all the words."

"Please."

She did so and started to sing. Erik closed his eyes again and began to emerge himself in her voice and the music. He followed the music with a hand in mid-air. Christine caught a glimpse of this and smiled to herself whilst singing. She didn't feel nervous now, which was odd considering that he was standing next to her. She also felt strangely natural when she was near him.

Erik was thrilled to be the only person who witnessed this song sung by her. He did not actually care for the song much; it was her singing which he wanted to hear more. He melted into her voice as she sung each note perfectly. He loved her tone and her character that she brought out when she sang. Christine continued singing but every so often she would take a look at her teacher's mask. It made her quite uneasy that he would not reveal herself to her.

When it came to the end of the song he asked for more so she sung it again. As Christine was singing she unexpectedly locked eyes with Erik. She found him moving towards her which made her really quite tense, but she relaxed when he simply sat down on the left side of the seat with her. Erik paused for a moment and then started to play along with Christine. She was impressed at how well he could play by ear and found herself messing up her part. She continued to sing contently to Erik who looked as if he was really enjoying hearing her sing. And that made her happy; knowing that her singing pleased him.

She kept her playing going as she peered over at her teacher. It seemed that he was in his own little world and she smiled kindly at him. As she looked at him she suddenly had an impulse to remove his mask. She thought about taking it off more than once but they were never this close for this long before. Her fingers lingered on keys while she thought. _He would be angry if I did that, I don't want to anger him, _Christine thought. By this time Erik had noticed that she had stopped playing. He stopped too and looked at Christine and cam to grips that her face was inches from his. Under his mask he blushed ever so slightly. Christine noticed he was staring at her and shyly turned the other way with a brief smile on her face.

Erik's eyes wandered over her face and her hair and down her body. But he stopped when he found her red mark. He reached out and stroked it very lightly. The touch of his gloved hand on her skin made her fly round and immediately cover the mark up.

"Where did you get that, Christine?"

He seemed genially concerned as her friend and not her teacher. She shook her head. "It is nothing."

"Let me see it."

She purposefully yanked her arm away from his reach and stood up. "I told you it is nothing. It is just a little mark, it will heal."

He sighed and stood up too. "Believe me when I say that I know a lot about marks." Christine frowned at his comment, not understanding what he meant. "Where did you get that?" He asked. When she hesitated he continued, "I want you to feel that you can be open with me."

"I recieved it... " she paused for a moment, "while rehearsing." Which was strictly true.

Christine shied away slightly but let him walk over to her. He gently took hold of her left marked arm with his left hand. He didn't remove his gaze from her eyes. Christine's breathing increased ever so slightly as he was very close to her now. She tried to keep her breathing even; as did he. He examined the mark on her arm and very gently, as if he was trying to not touch anymore of her skin, pulled back her hair which was covering the mark. He pulled it over her shoulder and was surprised when he left it there lingering on her neck. He looked from her hair to her face to her arm in one swift motion. As he had his eyes off her she turned away and blushed. She felt her warm blushing cheek with her free hand and she bit her lip to hide a smile. Erik noticed this and smiled and continued to touch her mark trying to find where it was sorest.

"Ow." She exclaimed and turned her head round to look at the mark.

"Forgive me." After a moment he continued, "You will develop a small bruise but it will heal quickly."

She groaned and then met the eyes of her teacher. She suddenly became aware that he was still touching her at this very close proximity. She smiled and tried to slowly get out of his grip. Once he realised what he did he turned and closed the piano lid. Christine awkwardly rubbed one arm with the other and beamed.

"You did well today, Christine." He said with his back still to her.

"Thank you, Erik."

She wandered over to him and placed a hand on his arm. He immediately tensed up for he didn't expect this. He didn't meet her in the eyes as he replied, "You are welcome. Your lessons will continue every week day after rehearsals." He paused. "I will come and find you so do not worry about trying to find me."


	6. An unexpected opportunity

Rehearsals continued the next day with Christine still in a daze. Practising was so easy now that she had the nerve to sing out deliberately to be heard. The orchestra was sounding finer than ever before and the cast were all deeply concentrated for they had just been told that the Opera was getting a new patron. Christine hardly acknowledged this because she already knew this piece of information, but she played along acting both shocked and delighted; not that anyone cared what she thought though.

Everyone worked very hard during the practising but as soon as there was a break a whole crowd of excited voices and laughter bursts out. Every member of the cast was overjoyed and Christine eyed some ballerinas who were speaking a little bit too friendly about a man who they had never met, she looked away from their disgusting remarks and then smiled.

_Raoul, _she thought by herself. _Oh Raoul, it will be just like old times. I wonder if he will recognise me, perhaps not ... no, no he will not. It has been too long. Oh I wonder what he looks like now, I bet he is still the handsome young boy that he always was. Maybe he will send me a wild flower like he did when we were young - oh but for that he would have to recognise me. Silly, Christine, silly! _She told herself. _For all you know he might be engaged. Oh Lord, please do not let him be engaged. I cannot believe I said that! That is very selfish of me, bad Christine, bad! Hmm, maybe I am over thinking this ... or am I? Well I do have a tendency to over think... _Her mind gradually slowed down its thinking pace as she was brought back to reality by the re-starting of the orchestra.

Christine blinked and then rushed to her starting position. She had to run into a few people on her way though, she guessed that they were too busy talking about Raoul too. As the orchestra started up and the music floated about the theatre, Christine's memories of her Father floated back. He had never taken her to see an opera but they had stood outside and listened with admiration.

The music continued and then Carlotta started singing. Christine nearly winced at the sound of her voice. _Erik was right, _she thought, _she does have a voice of a dying cat. _Christine struggled to contain a smirk as Carlotta proudly sung her part and looked as if she didn't care one bit for this production and only cared that she was singing. Other cast members in the wings, where Christine was also, gave her a strange look when her sniggering got a bit out of control and Christine had to slap her hand across her mouth to quiet herself. Meg, who was sweeping and every so often looked over to watch the cast practise, had grabbed Christine's attention and was miming to her. Christine laughed silently for she couldn't understand what on Earth she was trying to say. So she wandered over to her and they began to whisper things in each others ears. Old fashioned girl banter.

They let out a giggle or two but unfortunately Carlotta had noticed this and had glared at them, especially Christine. Both Christine and Meg naturally fell silent and stepped back into the shadows where she could not see them. This was followed by even more silly giggling from the two girls until Carlotta stood up. She stood while she sung with her hands clenched so tightly that Christine swore that they had turned white. Carlotta boldly kept her singing going as she stormed off into the wings towards the two girls. The rest of the cast was very confused and started rolling their eyes and murmuring. The conductor slowed down and stared off into the wings after the Prima Donna. Carlotta, whilst still singing, grabbed Christine by the same arm as she did before and dragged her onto the stage in plain sight of everyone. Christine was immediately embarrassed but stood her ground as best she could - which wasn't that well considering that she had an iron fist bound around her arm. She hesitantly looked at Meg who had come to the edge of the wings giving her new friend looks of sympathy.

Carlotta stopped singing and motioned with her hand to stop the music. "How can I sing when this girl is laughing?" Christine moved her head away from Carlotta when her voice came out very loud and very clear.

A cast member, the man who played Faust, stepped forward and said in a quiet voice, "She is only a child, she did not know any better."

Carlotta turned with fury in her eyes which made the actor actually take a step back. She hissed at him to be quiet with another motion of her free hand and annoyed noises that escaped her mouth. She turned back to the conductor and shoved a very bashful Christine towards him. "Twice! Two times in two days I have to stop performing because of _her!_ Argh, the things I have to do for my art!"

The conductor tried to calm her down. "Mademoiselle, please be reasonable."

"No." She said very flatly. "I not sing when this girl-" she stormed into the wings again, dragging Christine with her, and grabbed Meg by the arm. Meg gave out a little cry and did not dare to look Carlotta's way, "-and _this_ girl talk talk talk off stage! I want both out!"

The conductor looked shocked. "But, but-"

"No! No buts! Them, out! Out. Out. Out." She stormed off with her arms raised in frustration.

The conductor groaned and mumbled to himself. He held his head in his hands as the rest of the cast fumbled around the stage wondering what to do now. "I think we should have a little break now." Said the conductor to the ensemble. "Everyone take ten minutes."

Christine was worried and so was Meg. They looked at each other and then at the cast who were glaring at them also. "Oh Meg, I am sorry I got you in trouble like that."

"It's alright, I 'ad none excitement this month so this was fun."

She stared at Meg and laughed. "_Fun_? Really?"

The two shared a quick look and then burst out laughing again. This was soon interrupted by the Opera managers entering the theatre. The two became silent when they saw them approaching with certain looks on their faces.

"Oh no." Christine whispered.

"We're in for it now, aren't we, Christine?" Asked Meg worryingly who hardly had a job as it was and couldn't afford to lose it at any cost.

One manager, the older one named Moncharmin, called out to the two girls who came forward to the edge of the stage. The other manager named Richard said, "We would like to speak with you now." Christine and Meg exchanged glances and then made their way off the stage. Richard stopped them by raising a hand. "We would like to speak with Mademoiselle Daaé alone."

Meg looked at Christine worryingly and then disappeared into the wings. Once Christine was off the stage the two managers said for her to follow them into their office. When they arrived they shut the door and before Christine could ask any questions Moncharmin shoved a piece of paper in her hand.

Christine frowned and looked at the piece of paper. "What is this?"

"Read it." Said Moncharmin.

Christine opened it up and saw that it was a letter. She began to read as the two managers paced about the confined space.

_To my incompetent managers,_

_As you are aware you have been avoiding my previous letters but I am sure you will like this one. I have come to the decision that La Carlotta will not sing in your up coming production of Faust, for you see she has become very ill. Or, in fact she will be if my instructions are not followed._

_I request Christine __Daaé_ _to learn and perform the lead role of Marguerite, a role which I am sure Mademoiselle __Daaé_ _will perform to excellent standards._

_I wish to then point out that I will be watching very closely to the following rehearsals and I will make sure that everything goes the way I plan it. I also would like to point out that you haven't paid me in over a month and I am getting restless ... You have been warned once already._

_Yours sincerely O.G_

Christine stood with her mouthed opened. "_O.G. Opera Ghost_." She stared at the letter again re-reading it to make sure that she had seen those words clearly. She looked up and saw that the managers were watching her. "What does this mean?" She demanded.

The managers looked at each other and then at her. "We were hoping you would explain that." Replied Richard.

Christine could see the amount of fear that this letter had brought them and almost cringed away from the letter. Richard sighed and scratched his head. "Who is going to break it to Carlotta? That is what I am worried about."

She gasped and placed a hand over her mouth. "Are you . . . Are you considering letting me sing, Monsieur Richard?"

"There is nothing to consider, Mademoiselle Daaé, you have officially replaced La Carlotta in this production. Let us pray to the heavens that you can deliver what this Ghost demands from you."


	7. An old friend

**Thank you for my first reviews CaptinHooksGirl :D I really appreciate it! And also if anyone has any suggestions feel free to say them:) P.S. I kind of rushed this chapter so I'm sorry if you don't think it's up to the standards of the others.**

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Christine wasn't sure quite what had happened to her. _Me? _She thought as she took a long stroll through the Opera stable, _The Leading lady of the Opera? _Christine wasn't at all ready for this and she knew it. She had only started to take actual lessons and so she still had a great deal to learn before she could be allowed to perform to her full potential. She worried a great deal about this. She worried and worried and worried until a ball of nerves balled up in her stomach. She didn't want to think about the fact that she wasn't ready now, not when she had other things to have concerns over. One was how would Carlotta react to this? Not well apparently. Another was what her teacher would think about all of this.

She hummed to herself as she continued her walk. As she walked she pulled her shawl up which was about to fall and said a quick hello to the horses. When she came to the end of the stable she noticed something; a two-horse pulled carriage with a family crest upon the side. She leaned on a wooden frame as she watched and wondered about who this could possibly be. She suddenly straightened up for she saw that Moncharmin and Richard were waiting to greet the new arrivals.

She then watched as two figures emerged from the carriage. The first was a handsome yet tired looking middle-aged man. He had combed back black hair and a bushy moustache to match. He was well dressed but wore a grim expression. As he stepped out the two managers bowed and as did he. The second figure that emerged looked a great deal like the first, only he didn't. This man was considerably younger and had a much more handsome look to his face. He had no moustache and, from what Christine could see, had a healthy warm glow to his cheeks. He seemed to have blonde or very light brown hair which was also combed back neatly. He was also well dressed and the one main distinguishable thing between them was that this man had a huge smile across his face.

Christine smiled but then frowned not knowing why she had smiled. She then realised who this man was. "Raoul!" She exclaimed happily to herself. _Oh and the other man must be Philippe, his older brother ... no wonder they look-alike. _She thought to herself.

She found herself clasping her hands together in excitement and almost lost herself when she nearly ran towards him. She withdrew the urge to but watched from the sidelines as the four men made their way to the Opera doors. She sighed to herself and closed her eyes. _Oh Raoul, you are here. But even if you do not remember me at first, you will. You will remember me when you hear me sing. _

When she opened her eyes she found an embarrassing sight ahead of her. Raoul seemed to have strayed off from the line of men and was coming towards Christine. She immediately tried to avoid looking at him for she knew she would blush.

When she looked up next she saw him smiling charmingly at her with an arm resting on the frame and one on his hip. And oh, was he handsome. Christine thought that he could possibly have been the most handsomest man she had seen in her life. He then spoke very softly to her. "Hello, Mademoiselle."

Christine was filled with a sudden thrill. _He remembers me! _She squealed inside her head. "Hello, Monsieur." Her voice came out timid and weak.

"How are you, Mademoiselle?"

Christine smiled. "I am very well thank you, Monsieur, and how are you?"

He laughed. "Oh I am quite well, Mademoiselle. Especially now that I am here at the Opera. I have not been here five minutes and I have already met a little friend." He flashed her a brilliant smile. "A pretty one too if I might add, Mademoiselle."

She bit her lip nervously and smiled. "You may, Monsieur." _Oh he does remember me! _She thought. "I think I have seen your face before, Monsieur." She teased.

"It is a funny thing that you mention that, Mademoiselle, for I was thinking the exact same thing."

"You do remember me do you not, Monsieur?"

He suddenly frowned. "Do I remember you?" His smile slowly faded. "_Do_ I know you?"

Christine's smile faded also and shook her head. _I was so sure that he remembered me! _She thought disappointedly. However, what gave Christine a glimmer of hope was, he honestly sounded as if he was questioning himself on whether he really did know her or not.

Christine opened her mouth but decided to play with him a little bit. She couldn't help but just as soon as that glimmer of hope had entered her body, she felt it leave. Christine simply smiled at him. "No, I suppose not. I suppose you just have one of those faces."

"I guess I do, Mademoiselle."

"Raoul." An unfamiliar voice called out. Both Christine and Raoul had turned to look at the three men waiting on the steps. The speaker had been Philippe.

"I am coming." He called back.

He then very smoothly took my hand and kissed it, whilst never removing his sparkling eyes from hers. She bit her lip again and was embarrassed to feel herself going red. Raoul softly chuckled at this and made a farewell motion with his hand.

"Goodbye, Mademoiselle, until we meet again. And I do hope that it will be very soon." Before he turned his back to me he gave me one last charming smile and then ran to catch up with the others.

Christine watched him go and gave out a sigh of relief. _At least he recognised by face even if he could not place it ... _

"You never came to your lesson." A voice said suddenly from behind her. Christine nearly jumped ten feet high at the suddenness of the voice. She whirled around to see her teacher, Erik, standing in the stable. Maybe it was because of the conversation that she had just had but she wondered why Erik did not greet her formally.

"Well, _you_ never came to collect me." Christine said back to him, completely forgetting about the formality that she was going to bring to the conversation.

Erik said nothing but made a displeasing noise. Christine stood there wondering what this was leading to. She fixed her shawl as she waited to hear what her teacher had to say.

"I hear that you have replaced La Carlotta in Faust, is that correct?"

Christine sighed and looked him in the eye. "Yes, it is true. But how did you find out?"

Erik stayed where he was. "Word gets around, my dear."

"Oh. So you know how I got the part then, Monsieur?"

He paused and stared at her with a strange look in his eye. "No."

"The Opera Ghost. He requested for me to sing." She continued to talk while wandering around on the spot as if she couldn't stay still for more than two seconds. "I do not know why." One hand fiddled with the other. "I ... I ... I do not know him-" Erik twitched at that sentence although Christine did not see him do so, "-and he does not know me and I am sure he does not know that I am unprepared. I have only just started taking lessons. How am I going to do this?" She suddenly turned and ran right up to Erik so she was looking in his eyes. "Help me, please, Monsieur, I do not know what to do!"

"Shh. You have to calm down, this will not help the matter." He paused before he continued. "You must be pleased though. You are pleased are you not?"

She smiled and looked down. "Oh course I am pleased." Her smile vanished.

There was then a silence that neither of them tried to interrupt. She preferred silence to think properly, as did he.

"Who was that young man, Mademoiselle?"

Her head snapped up at the mention of Raoul. "He is an old friend."

"An old friend who has forgotten you." There was no readable emotion in his voice.

"It has been years." She gave him a look which he immediately shied away from. "How do you know that he did not remember me? Were you already here?"

"I did not want to interrupt." He held out a hand to signal that he wanted her to continue.

"I ... er, I would not have expected him to recognise me anyway. I had false hope."

"It is still better than no hope at all."

"Hmm."

"May I ask something of you?"

She looked him in the eye. "You may."

"How do you know this boy?"

Christine stared at him wondering why on Earth he had asked that. She stared at him for a few more moments and saw that he was refusing to look at her. "I have known Raoul-" Erik suddenly shifted uncomfortably. She raised one eyebrow at him and started again this time choosing her words differently. "-I have known him since we were very young. He used to come and listen to me sing when I performed with my Father."

Erik began to think. _I am afraid to say that the two were childhood sweethearts. Yes? Yes, they were, they must have been. What other explanation is there for the way they reacted around each other. Unless that is how that fool treats women in general. Oh Christine, how young you are, and you have not known the feeling of love yet. What are you talking about? Erik, neither have you! You should stop acting like you are above everyone else. Oh, but I am, don't you see? Ha! This boy is no good for her and must be dealt with when the time is right... _

_... Oh Christine, why must you look at me like that?_

"Ah, I see." Erik stood upright making himself as tall as possible. Christine felt quite intimidated. "You were effectively child hood sweethearts then, Mademoiselle?" His voice was flat.

Christine was baffled by his sudden change in mood. "That is not your place to say, Monsieur." She looked down at her feet.

Erik suddenly looked at her and said, "I am sorry, Mademoiselle. It was not my place, you were right." He turned to leave. "Come. We have a lot of work to do if you want to be ready in time."

Christine looked up and saw that Erik was already quite far away and did her best to catch up with him.


	8. Questions

Two weeks later and Christine's routine had turned into quite a strict one. She woke up bright and early at six every morning and got dressed. She would then make the long tedious route to the theatre and was made to tolerate Carlotta's persistent wining and stares. After the droning couple of hours that Christine had to spend making sure that she knew what she was doing so that she didn't look like a fool in front of everyone she then went straight to her lessons with Erik. Her lessons were gradually getting to be her favourite part of her day. She hardly ever saw Meg because of her busy schedule and to make matters worse for Christine, she had only seen Raoul briefly one time after they had talked. He was chatting to a couple of ballerinas and Christine muttered to herself sullenly and refused to let it bother her.

Christine was getting ready for bed, after one especially annoying day, when something popped into her mind. _'Now you will take part in something that has a true meaning for your voice.' _Erik had said this to her one day after she complained about the amount of pressure that was abruptly exerted onto her without warning. She liked the way he always surprised her with little compliments, but she did not like it when he told her off for not paying full attention to what he was saying. Normally when this happened it was due to Christine thinking of Raoul.

Christine sighed and pulled back her blanket but jumped when there was a sudden light knock at the door. She looked toward the door anxiously and then glanced around her in the dark. All of the other girls were fast asleep, some in fact were snoring. Christine wrapped her blanket around her and went to the door to open it.

"Christine." A little voice squealed.

"Meg?" She squinted in the darkness and could just make out a faint outline of her little friend. "Meg, what are you doing here?"

Meg glanced behind her and then into the room behind Christine. "Um, could we maybe talk out 'ere, Christine?"

Christine nodded and quietly stepped outside and shut the door. She winced as she had closed the door a little too loudly for this time of night. She prayed that it hadn't woken up any of the girls. "What is it M-?"

"I 'aven't 'ad a proper chance to congratulate you yet!"

"And you thought telling me in the middle of the night would help, Meg?" She chuckled, "I appreciate it but you could have waited until the morning."

"I know." Meg spoke interrupting her for the second time in a row now. "It's just ... I can't believe it! I am just so thrilled for you. I mean, wow! You, my friend, a Prima Donna." She paused. "That _is_ what you singers call it, right?"

Christine withheld a giggle. "Yes, Meg." She loved how Meg could brighten up her day with just opening her mouth.

"I 'ave got to say something though, it is really frustrating me." Christine nodded for her to continue. "I was wondering 'ow you did eventually get the part? I 'aven't seen you since Carlotta gave us her scornful words. I'm curious."

Christine crossed her arms and clicked her tongue. She sat down at the top of the winding staircase and Meg also sat down comfortably beside her. Christine brought her arms up towards her body and secured them with her arms as she began to talk, "Well, Meg, Moncharmin and Richard brought me to their office and I was immediately handed a letter. It was a letter sent from the Opera Ghost to the managers saying that he wished for me to sing, and, erm, they did not think two seconds about it and immediately cast me."

Christine frowned at Meg when she saw the amount of worrying that had spread across her face. "Do you know why 'e requested you?"

She shook her head. "No. No, I have no idea, Meg. I am as confused as you are."

They sat there for a moment in silence until Meg asked, "I saw you with a man, a man all dressed in black, three weeks ago, 'ow do you know 'im?"

Christine looked absolutely shocked. "I, er, I do not know what you are talking about Meg. I have abs-"

"I know who 'e is, Christine." She snapped and Christine's expression grew with even more shock. Meg sighed and looked down at her bare toes. "Look, this is the real reason I came to talk to you tonight."

"How," she titled her head to the side,"how could you possibly know him, Meg?"

"You 'ave to promise that you will not breathe a word of this to anyone else, do you understand?" Christine nodded and waited with anticipation. "My Mother knows 'im, I 'ave spoken to him once or twice although I am more of a middle manm, I guess."

"But how?"

"Christine, what is 'e to you may I ask?"

She hesitated before answering. "My teacher."

"Your ... your _teacher_? 'E is teaching you music?"

Another pause. "Yes, he is my singing teacher."

Meg laughed. She actually laughed when Christine confirmed the news. Christine felt a little bit hurt when Meg had just burst out and she wasn't about to go about making her feelings unnoticed. Meg went silent as she watched Christine.

"Do you know who 'e is?" Meg asked.

"Yes."

"Do you know 'is name?"

There was a pause. "Yes."

Meg sighed and looked away from her friend. "You may know 'is name yet you do not know _who _'e is."

_What does she mean? _Christine felt hurt again but confused at the same time. "And you do?"

"Yes, Christine. That's why I was asking you all these questions. I, well my Mother, is extremely worried about you and what you are getting yourself into. To make matters worse, as I 'ave just confirmed, you do not know the man who is your teacher."

"But I do!" She protested.

"But you don't! That is the problem. I cannot say anything in detail to you about 'im, Christine. But remember this; I warned you in advance."

"Warned me about what, Meg?"

Meg let out an upset little whimper. "Oh Christine, let it be! You will understand."

Christine did not like the way she was always being told that she will 'understand'. She made an infuriated noise out through her nose and gritted her teeth. _How does Meg know who Erik is and I do not? Does he not trust me? And why does everyone think that I do not understand?_

"Sorry." Meg's little voice broke the silence and Christine made her anger vanish.

"It is fine, let us forget about it." She touched Meg on the shoulder, desperate to change the mood of the conversation. "Oh, you will never guess who I happened to run into a couple of weeks ago." Meg turned inwards, intrigued by her statement.

"Who?"

"Raoul."

Meg gasped, although with her voice being so fragile it came across as a very small squeak. "Did you speak with 'im? Did 'e remember you?"

"Yes I did speak with him, but no he did not recognise me."

The two young girls kept talking and talking through the dark night and they seemed to never run out of things to talk about. It was their first real conversation in a very long time and they decided that they would make the most of it while they could.

Meg decided to leave and let Christine sleep after an hour of this. "You need your beauty sleep."

Christine smiled at her and waved her goodbye. She watched as her light hair bounced around her shoulders as she happily hopped down the stairs. Christine then returned to her shared room and she couldn't help feel suspicious about Meg. And something else too. Was it, no it could not have been, _jealousy_?


	9. Before the performance

The first night of Christine's debut had finally came and she was worried more than ever. Of course she was ready to tackle the audience and perform like a true professional but something in her mind was screaming at her telling her she couldn't do this. She constantly had to tell this little voice to shut up.

Her dressing room; Carlotta's former dressing room, was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. It was a great improvement on the dormitory conditions that Christine had to endure before. She looked around at the exquisite furniture and displays. Everything was neatly placed into its own little space and it all seemed to fit. Christine wandered around and gazed at her new dressing room's features. The last thing that she laid her eyes upon was the magnificent full length mirror that was occupying on end of the room. She walked slowly to it and touched the glass lightly with the tips of her fingers. She ran her fingers on the edge of the frame feeling every crack and texture. This was nothing like her other mirror in the dormitory. That one was quite dirty around the edges and quite small. It was nothing compared to this one.

Christine titled her head and then peaked at herself. She was in full costume and looked a ghastly shade of white, it was like she had seen a ghost, but she figured it was just her nerves. She touched the edge of her cheek and then something caught her eye in the mirror. It was something that she had noticed before now and it was lying on her dressing table. She wandered over to the table and looked at it. The object was a blood crimson rose which had a carefully tied piece of black ribbon around the stem. It formed a perfect knot. Christine stared at this gorgeous rose and then picked it up holding it delicately between two fingers. She ran her eyes all over it and wondered who could have sent this. She wondered how she could have missed this when she entered; it was so beautiful.

A sudden noise coming from the door startled her so that it made her drop the rose onto the table. She quickly eyed that it was a sealed letter and ran over to the door as fast as she could. She flung back the doors and was immediately met by a strong frightening gust of wind. Christine looked left and right but could not see who had left the note here for her. She paused for a moment before entering her dressing room again. She shut the door behind her and without moving from her stance she picked up the letter.

Christine brought it over to the table to read and she sat down to do so. She took not time to open it and gasped with delight when she saw who it was from.

_My dearest Christine,_

_you cannot start to comprehend how much pride I am taking in knowing that you about to set your first steps onto the stage very shortly. You have done well, my child, and for that you will be rewarded. Step to the stage knowing that you can do this. I will be watching._

_Make me proud to be your teacher, Christine. Oh, and I hope you like my little gift that I left for you on your dressing table._

_Yours cordially, Erik._

She placed the letter down and stared at it and then at the rose. _How sweet of Erik to do that, _Christine thought as she smiled, _He has been so good to me. I will try to make this up to him somehow. I cannot bare to think that he is going un-rewarded for his talents._

She kept looking between the letter and the rose. Although there was a brief moment of fear when she first caught glimpse of the handwriting and thought it belonged to the Opera Ghost. He and Erik had very similar handwriting and Christine cursed at herself for even thinking that the letter was from the Opera Ghost instead of her teacher.

She was interrupted by a light tap at the door.

"Come in." She was half expecting Erik to walk in and sweep her up in his arms and tell her how well she was going to perform tonight. She smiled at the thought. So you could tell by this how Christine was quite amazed to see Madame Giry enter instead.

"You are on stage very soon Christine. I came to wish good luck."

"Thank you Madame." Christine turned her head away from her and continued to look at her items from Erik.

"Ah, I see you have received the letter and rose."

Christine raised her head and stared at Madame Giry. She could not believe this woman. First she came across as a highly respected bitter woman who couldn't care less about her well-being. And now, well, she had become a suspicious highly respected bitter woman who Erik trusted more than he did Christine.

Christine sighed slightly but told herself that this wouldn't bother her. "Yes." She turned to look at her. "Could you please tell me how you know about these items, Madame?"

Madame Giry hadn't moved since she had come in and it didn't look like she was going to either. "That is not important right now, I just came to see that you have received both of them. And now that I see you have I will be going now."

She opened the door but Christine stood up to stop her. "Wait." Madame Giry halted and stood looking at Christine half behind the door with one hand resting on the edge.

"Yes, my dear?"

"How?"

Madame Giry frowned. "How what?"

"How do you know him, Madame?"

"Who?" She asked innocently.

"_Him. _Oh, do not act innocent, I know that you know him. Please, Madame, can you please tell me about him so I can be put out of my misery?"

Christine waited patiently as Madame Giry shook her head. "No, I am afraid I cannot. He will reveal to you what he wants you to know."

"But Madame, I-"

"Christine, you must rest your voice." She turned to leave but looked back to say. "Good luck, once again. I am sure that you will make him proud." And with that she firmly shut the door.

Christine was left puzzled over how odd this woman was and let out a cry of frustration. She threw herself down onto her dressing table chair and held her face in her hands. But Madame Giry was right, she had to rest her voice. She couldn't afford to lose it on account of asking too many silly questions. After all the Opera was approaching its first performance and time was too short. Time was much too short for Christine, who started to get butterflies in her stomach as she started to stress and over think.

Once she had calmed down she focused on her breathing and started to warm up. Time had certainly got the better of her when another tap on the door sounded.

"Yes?"

Moncharmin opened both doors wide and gestured for her to walk through. "It is time, Mademoiselle Daaé."


	10. Triumph

Christine pitched her final note perfectly and was met by a very nerve-racking pause. She breathed intensely and waited. Her fellow cast member named Roberto Guido, who played Faust, had also finished singing his last note too. Christine thought this silent moment was stretching on for forever and so she anxiously peeked at the audience who was staring at the stage. The curtain had just been drawn and the orchestra had completed their arrangement and then there was noise. Christine stood up and stared at the closed curtain. Her breathing increased and she walked towards it being drawn to the sound of the audience.

The velvet curtains drew back to reveal the spotlight on her and a roar of awe from the audience below. She half laughed and half smiled. She couldn't have ever believed that she was that good if it were not for Erik. Christine curtsied and smiled at the audience in relief. She breathed in their approval and in return they took her nerves.

Christine, and I don't think anyone, could really describe what it really feels like to be up on a stage having an expecting audience look up at you and give you your first living response. She looked over at the other cast members either side of her and she smiled even more. Roberto suddenly took her hand, lightly kissed it and then showed her to the audience for her spotlight opportune moment. The crowd erupted into even more complimenting clapping and Christine was amazed. Her breath caught as she scanned over the crowd whose all eyes were on her and only her. She had not predicted this response, and on the opening night too! She curtsied and beamed all the while. She even found the crowd throwing flowers at her. She felt thrilled.

Erik, who was watching up in one dark corner up high, stood still admiring her. He breathed in a deep sigh and smiled. "Well done, my little one, well done." He grinned at his success and peered at the audience below. He too had never anticipated the amount of applause that had filled the whole theatre. He was proud, so very proud of his little protégée.

Christine kept smiling but then started to scan the room for a face. Two faces, actually. She found one of them almost immediately. Raoul's. He was sitting in one section in the balcony which was closest to the stage. She saw that he too was applauding like crazy and smiling his head off. She felt sure that he recognised her now. Christine tried to hard not to keep her eyes on Raoul, yet there was one more face that she still had to find. Erik's. Christine looked and looked but the bright lights in her face did not help the matter. She only had a few seconds of trying to look for him and then the curtain closed. She stepped back confused but still caught up in the moment of the audience.

She was then met by the cast members and helpers and the managers congratulating her and handing her flowers and compliments. Christine felt herself blush as she was suddenly pulled away from the little crowd by Madame Giry with one too many flowers in her arms. Madame Giry helped carry them as she escorted Christine to her dressing room.

She shoved pasted the awaiting fans and pulled Christine so that she was very close to her. Christine smiled at her fans and saw that they were all trying to talk to her. Never in her life had she been so popular before. She was still staring out toward the crowd and was about to say something to them when Madame Giry tugged on her arm and pulled her inside.

Christine stood with her eyes shut and flowers in her arms against the door. She sighed and smiled.

"How do you feel, Christine?" Asked Madame Giry.

Christine beamed even more and titled her head back with her eyes still shut. "Exhilarated." She breathed.

"I think that you would like to know that _he_ is pleased. Very pleased, in fact." Christine couldn't stop smiling, especially now that she had heard her teacher had been watching and had liked her performance.

Madame Giry smiled and took the falling flowers away from Christine who immediately blinked and looked into the room. A few hours ago the dressing room had looked normal, but now ... now it had been transformed. Everywhere you looked was gorgeous arrangements of flowers and the aroma was sweet and heavenly. She literally gasped and explored the room laughing as she found more and more flowers. Roses, lilies, irises, daisies, orchids, they were everywhere. She skipped around the room smelling all of them and then found herself tripping on her dress and falling very embarrassingly into Madame Giry's arms.

Christine was met by an unexpected smile which matched her own and Christine just ended up laughing. There was a knock at the door and both women turned around to see who it might be.

"Who is it?" Christine asked.

"It's me, Christine!"

"Meg!"

"Can you open the door, please? I think I'm suffocating out 'ere with the amount of people."

Christine just laughed and hopped along to open the door and pull meg inside. Meg immediately hugged Christine and started congratulating her. She froze when she saw that her Mother was also in the room.

"Mother?"

Madame Giry smiled softly and announced, "I will leave you two alone to talk." She walked to the door and put an old hand on Christine's shoulder as she passed. "Well done, again, Christine."

As soon as she shut the door the two girls burst into conversation and Meg watched as Christine floated around the room with flowers in her arms thanking an invisible audience for their support. Meg giggled at her friend and shook her head.

"Hell, there sure is a lot of flowers."

Christine didn't hear her for she was in a world of her own now. She looked like she was in a daze and Meg whirled her around on the spot. Meg laughed even more when she realised that Christine didn't realise what she was doing.

"Oh Christine!" Meg exclaimed.

"Oh Christine indeed." Christine murmured to herself.

They giggled for a while until there was another knock at the door. Meg softly shook Christine who blinked and came aware of her surroundings. "Oh." She whispered silently. "Who is it?" Christine asked.

"Your managers, Mademoiselle." Richard said.

"Come in."

The two stumbled in with even more flowers in hand and cigars in their mouths. "We did not just come here to congratulate you, Mademoiselle." Said Richard.

"No, we have a little surprise for you too." Joined in Moncharmin.

Christine gave a little confused look towards Meg who shrugged her shoulders. Moncharmin continued. "There is a young man here to see you. He keeps going on about needing to meet you and he says that you know him. He-"

"Yes, he keeps talking about wild flowers and such. He complained when we said that there are no nearby places where you could get wild flowers at this hour."

Christine automatically knew who the gentlemen spoke of. She smiled at Meg and then at her managers. "Send him in, please."

They nodded and bowed to her before leaving the room.

Meg took one look at the nearly smitten Christine and said, "I'll leave you, then. I'll be back later, that is if you are still 'ere!" She laughed. "You 'ave to tell me everything and _soon_!_"_

Christine giggled. "Now, when you say everything-"

"I mean _everything!" _Both girls laughed.

Meg then exited the room which left her alone for a few moments. Christine whirled around to the full length mirror and made her self look presentable. She was so happy at that moment and she turned around waiting for her visitor to come. Her eyes suddenly rested on Erik's rose and she stared at it and sighed.

"Mademoiselle?" Her head snapped up at the sound of that familiar voice. In stepped Raoul, looking as handsome as ever, with a few flowers in his hand. He smiled at her and Christine stayed where she was and grinned at him. "I am sorry that these are not wild flowers, I know how much you love them. But I guess they will have to do for right now." He put the flowers down and looked at his old friend. "Christine." He beamed at her.

_Oh Lord, he remembers me! _"Raoul." She breathed. Her triumph and having Raoul remember her was all too much in one short space of time. She found herself becoming woozy and then dizzy. "Raoul." She repeated as darkness closed around her blissfully.


	11. An invitation

Raoul, distraught after her sudden fainting, had picked Christine up and carefully laid her down on her sofa in her dressing room. He looked at her and smiled. It was so good to see her again, but he felt a little bit uncomfortable when he remembered their little talk at the stables a couple of weeks ago. _Raoul, you are a fool for not recognising her! _

He slowly bent down so he was at eye level with Christine. He then touched her cheek very lightly and smiled again.

"Raoul?" Spoke Philippe whilst knocking.

"Come in, Philippe." Said Raoul who never took his eyes again from Christine.

When Philippe entered he looked shocked to see the spectacular soprano lying on her sofa unconscious. He walked straight up to them and demanded to his little brother to tell him what happened.

"Calm down, Philippe. She seemed perfectly alright when I came in." He paused and took her hand in his. "I think she is just feeling a bit overwhelmed with everything that has happened." _And that seeing me again was all too much for her, _he added as an after note in his head. He smirked before continuing. "She will come to in a few minutes, I am sure."

Philippe placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "It is her, is it not? The girl from your childhood, the one whom you always spoke of?" He nodded and Philippe raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "You have finally found her, then."

Raoul placed his other hand on top of her hand so both hands were touching her. He felt the smoothness of her skin against his and he sighed. Raoul thought it was good to be back in her life, and to hear her sing too, oh! He thought she had a beautiful voice when they were kids so that was why he said for her to take lessons, but now, now her voice was like an angel's. It was sweet and immensely powerful.

"I hope we are not intruding but-" The two gentlemen turned their heads round to see Moncharmin and Richard standing in the opened door way. Philippe quickly signalled for them to close the door as he thought Christine did not wish for her fans to know of her fainting.

"My, what ever happened?" Blurted Richard.

"She was feeling a little bit overwhelmed, that is all gentlemen. And I would think that Mademoiselle Daaé would like to be alone too."

The three men standing over Christine and Raoul then entered a conversation about what was best for her at the moment.

"How long has she been like this?" Asked Richard.

"She seemed fine when we were speaking with her a while ago." Moncharmin chirped in. "Should we fetch Madame Giry?"

"Gentlemen please, listen to my brother. He is right about her needing her rest."

This discussion went unnoticed by Raoul who seemed almost captivated by the sleeping Christine. She then felt her stir and he blinked. Her hand twitched slightly and Raoul spoke loudly so that the three men could hear him, "Hush! She is coming to now. Christine?"

All four men were now crowded around Christine saying her name and making sure she heard them alright. Christine fluttered her eyes opened and the first thing she did was smile at Raoul. She then gasped as she realised that there were three other men in her room and she tried to sit up. She immediately felt woozy and Raoul helped her lie back down keeping his hand on her hair.

"Do not try to move for a while, you have had a very overwhelming performance and you need your rest."

"Raoul." She breathed. She then became very aware that he was holding her hand.

"Rest, Christine."

Christine peered at her hand in his and sighed happily.

"I do not believe we have met, Mademoiselle Daaé. I am Philippe, Comte De Chagny. I am this boy's older and more charming older brother." Spoke Philippe.

Christine chuckled and smiled sweetly at him as he bowed to her. "Hello, Comte."

"Oh please, do not address me by my title. Monsieur De Chagny is just fine, Mademoiselle."

She smiled and nodded. "It is very nice to meet you Monsieur De Chagny."

"Raoul has told me much about you from his childhood." Added Philippe.

Christine found herself blushing and raising an eyebrow toward Raoul who smiled and shrugged. "How nice of him to do so, Monsieur De Chagny. I hope there was not anything bad said against me." She smiled.

"Oh, how could there be, Mademoiselle? He has not once uttered a word of disapproval towards you." Philippe said while looking at his embarrassed little brother.

"I think that is quite enough, Philippe." His hand lingered on hers just for a moment though before he stood up and walked to the door.

"Oh, we almost forgot, could you wait for a moment, Messieurs?" Asked Richard. Raoul nodded and returned to the centre of the room. "We came in here to invite you to a celebration in your name later this evening, Mademoiselle. Oh course there is no need to be asking you for it is your honour, but you will come will you not?"

Christine beamed. _A party? In honour of me? Oh course I am going! Just as long as Raoul is there too!_ She thought. "Oh course I will come."

The two managers beamed. Moncharmin turned to the two men of high status and added. "You fine gentlemen are also invited."

"We will most certainly be there." Replied Philippe. Raoul looked down and smiled, she smiled back.

"Well that is settled then!" Said Moncharmin as he and Richard headed out the door. "Break open the champagne bottle, invite everyone. Oh and for goodness sake do not tell Carlotta!"

Their voices floated away in the distance and the three friends laughed. Philippe bowed and said, "I am looking forward to seeing you again at the celebration. Will you be singing, Mademoiselle?"

Christine looked flattered. "If you would like me to then yes I will, Monsieur De Chagny."

Philippe beamed and bowed. "Until tonight then, Mademoiselle." He headed for the door. "Come Raoul."

Once he had left the room the two of them stared at each for a long while. A stupid grin spread over their faces. The silence was broken when Raoul softly spoke and his face became serious. Christine saw this and she became very serious too. "Will you sing for me tonight, Christine?"

On the inside Christine was screaming with joy but she was very composed on the outside. Well not that composed for she grinned even wider and tried to sit up, which of course resulted in Raoul helping her back down to the sofa. She sighed when he stood away from her. "I will sing for you, Raoul. I promise."

Raoul beamed and took her hand. "Thank you." He kissed her hand, his soft lips touched her skin which Christine was overjoyed about. He then released her hand and bowed. He lightly closed the door and Christine was left alone with her thoughts.

A few minutes passed and she was able to stand up. She wobbled a little bit but quickly her unsure ness was replaced with happiness. She floated around her dressing room and danced by herself to her heart's content. Christine imagined what it would have been like to be in Raoul's arms. She hugged herself as she continued to dance around her dressing room.

A chill suddenly passed over Christine which made her stop dead in her tracks. She shivered and looked around confused. No windows were open and her candles seemed perfectly still as if there was no wind at all in there. But Christine was sure that she had felt a chill. This was confirmed when she felt a second chill come over her, this time making her face her full length mirror. She was dizzy from all the dancing and she still felt faint but she knew that she was not alone. Her mind spun and her eyes became very fuzzy. She blinked to see if it would make any difference.

"Christine." A chilly voice spoke out.

It was like a whisper and Christine frantically looked around to see who was there. She saw no one even with fuzzy eyes.

"Christine." There it was again. That voice. She knew that voice all too well. She looked at the mirror and felt very dizzy again when she saw an outline of a figure standing behind the glass.

"You have made your teacher very proud."

Christine started to walk towards the mirror in a very confused state of mind. He began to sing hypnotically to her and Christine couldn't help but be drawn to his voice like a moth to a light. She blinked a few times in disbelief when her mirror slide open and there stood Erik with one hand outstretched singing evocatively to her. Without even thinking she took his hand and followed him. She was entranced and in a daze which she could not snap out of. Her mirror slid back into place as Christine followed her teacher down into the darkness of the Opera House.


	12. Realisation

Erik's voice filled the gloomy passage way like a torch and like a torch he led the way. Christine was amazed, she followed him with her mouth half hanging opened. His voice was glorious. This was the first time that she had ever heard her teacher sing, although it was more humming than anything, but was very excited about it. She bit her lip as she let his music wrap her in a tight cocoon. She had absolutely no idea where he was leading her, half of her was screaming to turn back but the other half was ushering her to go with him.

This was the first time she had noticed just how mysterious Erik really was; the way he spoke, the way he spontaneously showed up, the way he wore that mask so that she would not see his face. She then wondered if it was just her that he hid his face to or if it was everyone. All the while he kept singing, Christine was sure that she knew it and then she realised what is was. It was her Father's song that she had played only once to Erik a while ago. _How could he have possibly memorised it note to note from just hearing being played - rather badly - once?_

Christine was in such a trance that she had not realised where Erik had brought her. She looked around and became aware of her surroundings as Erik let go of her hand but stayed in her line of sight. She saw that there was light coming from the end of this passage way and so she blindly followed it. Erik kept looking over his shoulder at Christine just to make sure that she was still following him. Christine looked away from Erik for the first time and stared at the ground as she was walking.

Erik had stopped singing and Christine was slowly slipping back from the world inside her head and into the real world. It was almost like his voice was an anaesthetic which made her quite woozy and unaware. But now that he had stopped, she was finally thinking straight. The floor was getting harder and more wet and she could swear that she could hear the sound of water. She looked up at Erik who was standing before a closed-door. Christine noticed that the light that she saw was coming from within the door.

Once his back was turned she looked behind her and then back at Erik. Suddenly it all made sense! She gasped and Erik twitched at the noise but did not look at her, he was too busy unlocking the heavily bolted door. It was all coming together in her mind, _The notes, his teaching, the mask, that voice, his _music_! But surely it cannot be... Surely it is me making a huge assumption. Calm Christine, just act calm..._

He slowly pulled her inside shutting the door quickly behind them. He led her down a small spiral metal staircase and along to another little passageway. Christine did not want to complain although her feet did ache terribly. She sealed her lips into a straight line to stop her from saying anything.

They turned a corner and Christine frowned. It was the beginning of a narrow stream that led north. There was a small walkway either side of the water. Christine walked on the left, which was the one nearest to her and Erik chose to walk on the other side. He stared at her as he walked confidently and Christine was worried that he would lose his footing and fall in. She stumbled a bit every time she glanced at him which she immediately felt embarrassed about. Christine was too busy looking at Erik to notice that a couple of rats were scampering around her feet.

When they reached the end of the passage way Christine spotted a little boat floating on the still water of the stream. Erik climbed inside it and then offered to help Christine inside it. She took his hand and got in. The boat rocked which made her lose her footing and fall onto the seat. She cursed at herself for continuingly embarrassing herself in front of her teacher. Erik smiled, to himself, at her little quirks.

He steered the boat for a while until they reached the end of the lake. He got out of the boat making it rock even more, Christine tightly gripped the sides of the boat to steady it. She looked up and turned her head to get a good view of where she was.

He got out of the boat first and entered his shadowy domain. Christine followed him out of the boat, slowly but steadily as she could. Christine felt unsure about her assumption yet she did not turn her back to him. She watched Erik as he slowly walked over to one part of the wall. He leaned against it with his hands clasped in front of him.

Christine turned on the spot eyeing this strange place with inquisitiveness. She noticed that there were hundreds of beautifully scented candles lit and placed anywhere there was space. She saw, what remarkably resembled the ones in the theatre, huge red velvet curtains which draped over a room or two. She kept turning and something new always her eye. She saw that there was a desk with mountains of paper work on it; in fact most of the floor in that direction was covered in pieces of paper which looked like sheet music. There was a sofa which had a lovely dark blanket over it, however it did not look comfy enough to sit upon. The last thing she noticed was directly behind her. It was a rather gorgeous organ resting peacefully on a rich purple rug. It too had sheet music, but this time it was neatly placed on a stand. She did not dare and take a look at Erik for she knew his eyes were on her. She could almost feel them on her and a chill was sent down her spine.

Her back was to him and her breathing increased as she knew her assumption was true. "It _is_ you..." When he didn't answer her she whirled around and stared at him in disbelief. "You!" She pointed a shaking finger at him but dropped her hand after a second when she saw him stand upright and lower his head at her. It made his beady eyes more menacing. "You! You are The Phantom!"

Christine could not believe what she had just blurted out. She knew it was true though. She took a step backwards and Erik took a step forward. She raised a hand next to her body in confusion and took another step back. This was followed by Erik taking a step forward too. She continued backwards and he continued to stalk forwards towards her.

_Why am I so afraid? He is Erik, my _teacher! _I have no reason to be afraid of him, do I? No, he has done nothing but help me! ... So why am I retreating backwards? Oh I do wish he did not come towards me like that._

Christine stopped and gasped as her back hit a pillar which was at the side of the room. She placed her hands flat-out either side of her and watched as Erik paced towards her. He had his hands up in defence. "Christine, do not be afraid. It is just a name. There is no need to be afraid of a name."

She wanted so badly to believe him but her judgement was crowded with things that everyone had said about him. "Why, why am I here?"

He did not stop walking towards her. "I told you once that when you were ready, you would understand. You are ready and you will now understand-"

"No." I snapped. I then placed a hand over my mouth and stuttered. Erik looked as shocked as I was. I had never snapped at him like that before.

"What?" He spoke monotonously.

"I want to return." She tried to straighten up and hold her body confidently. "Take me back, Erik."

"Oh, my dear, you know I cannot do that. You are with Erik now. All alone."

Christine winced at her teacher's suggestive words. She hysterically started shaking her head and leaned to the side. "No." She whispered.

"Christine..." Whispered Erik.

She kept shaking her head and when she saw his hands reach out for her she ran. The problem was that she had nowhere to run to. She saw Erik come after her and she increased her speed. She unfortunately didn't see a step in front of her and she tripped over it. She landed with a thud on some higher steps and shook her head and blinked. When she stopped shaking her head her breathing caught. She saw Erik towering above her with a displeased look on his face.

"That was not very smart was it, Christine? Do not run from Erik, my dear." He picked her up by the arm and led her towards the curtain hidden rooms. "He will always find you."

_Why is he talking in third person? In fact why is he acting like this full stop? Is this how he normally acts? _

"Come Christine."

He released her arm and pulled back one side of a curtain to reveal a room. A quite small yet nice room. It had a huge bed and a dressing table with a few necessities perched on it. There also seemed to be a wardrobe which she assumed had clothes in it for her. It actually made her quite sick thinking that Erik had planned ahead for this.

She stared into the brightly lit room and let out a confused and worried sigh. "What ... what is this?"

"It is your room, Christine. I do hope you like it."

_My ... room? _She immediately turned and tried to make a break for it but Erik grabbed her by the shoulders and held her tight. Christine yelped under his grip. "What did I say about trying to do that?" He raised his voice and his eyes burned with fury. "Are you so insolent that you cannot follow simple instructions?"

"But, I..." She said whilst struggling.

"No! Christine, why must you put your teacher through this? After all he has done for you, why do you have to do this to him?"

Christine stopped struggling and looked into his eyes. She stopped because there was that tine in his voice again, his nice friendly tone that he had always used whilst teaching. But it was joined by something dark and sad. It frightened Christine but when she looked into his eyes she knew and remembered the Erik that she had come to care for.

"Erik..." She began to speak trying to comfort him. "I am sorry, Erik. I did not mean to react like that. You gave me quite a scare, that was all."

Erik seemed out of it a bit but when he looked at Christine he did not realise that he still had her in his gripped. He gasped and let go of her. "Do forgive me, Christine."

Christine sighed and looked pitifully at her teacher. She then saw him take something from his jacket pocket and then twiddle with it with his fingers. "May I ask what that is you are holding, Erik?" She was always curious when it came to Erik.

He sighed and clicked his tongue. He waited a moment and then raised the object so it was eye level with Christine. It was small and round and it was beautifully crafted. It sparkled in the light of a near by candle and Christine then saw what it really was. A ring. She flew a hand to her mouth and started to edge backwards shaking her head. Her eyes bulged and she ran both her hands through her hair. Christine then found herself laughing manically. Erik looked angrily at her.

Christine looked at him and flinched at his glare. "If you were going to laugh at me then I do wish you had warned me beforehand." There was no emotion in his voice but there was a slight hint of unkindness. "I shall leave you alone to think about it-"

"How long are you expecting to keep me down here?" She asked suddenly.

"A couple of days, a week at the most, my dear. Nothing drastic. It is enough time for you to come to terms with me, would you not you agree, my child?"

Christine stared at him in disbelief. "A _week_? Erik, I am expected up there for a party very soon. I cannot afford to miss it. I also cannot afford to miss performing. I am sorry Erik, I cannot stay with you..."

She drifted off as she saw him clench his hand which held the ring and grit his teeth. He breathed more heavily and spoke very cruelly. "You will not return when you are in this state. You do not know what you are saying. You will learn to know me, maybe even love-" she flinched, "-me, as I love you."

Christine raised her head with her mouth hanging wide open. "What did you say?"

"Foolish child, must I always repeat myself with you?" He snapped. "You will stay here until _I _say you can leave." And with that he slammed the door shut.

Christine started to breath out sobs and she threw herself on top of her unfamiliar bed. She was confined to her cage of a room until Erik says so. She could not believe him. She placed her puzzled head in her arms and wept. It was the first time she had wept in weeks.

_He loves me? Oh of course he loves me. I should have known this! Why must he scare me like this? How could my sweet caring teacher be so cruel? _


	13. Mood swings

A scream made Erik's head snap right up from composing. He stood up not sure how to proceed. The scream echoed through the cold walls of his lair and his head turned left and right trying to find the source of it. It sounded quite muffled but Erik started to walk around listening carefully for it. Another scream sounded, it was louder this time and he knew where it had come from. Christine.

Erik started to make his way to her room but halted outside it. His hand lingered on the curtain and he sighed. _Let us not scare her again, yes? _He told himself. He could hear Christine mumbling under her breath; it sounded like she was having a nightmare. Erik could not bear to hear Christine in this state especially when it was him who caused her to act like this. He strode into the room and stared wide-eyed at Christine.

She was sprawled out half on the bed and half off of it. Her head hung just off the edge making her chocolate curls fall down over her face, some of it touched the floor. One arm was gripping the cover and the other was over her face blocking her eyes. Her head was jerking to the side and she was murmuring strange things to herself. Erik marched straight up to the bed and kneeled on it with one knee. He held his hands in mid-air not sure in how he should comfort her. He nervously pulled her into a sitting position in his arms and cradled her there.

Another scream came from Christine's mouth and she moved about in his hold a bit. Erik kept holding her until she had calmed down. He looked down at her radiance and softly caressed her face with one of his now bare hands. She was so beautiful compared with any other woman he had seen. He scoffed at the thought of him thinking that she would ever love him.

"Christine." He kept murmuring her name over and over again like a sacred prayer. Erik then lay her back down in a comfortable position on the bed and stood up. He took one last look at his love and pulled back the drapes to leave.

"Erik." She stirred and he stopped in his tracks.

He took a few cautious steps towards Christine and then stopped. She still seemed to be sleeping, but now she was sleep talking. Erik, again not knowing quite what to do, went to kneel by her bed. "I am here, Christine."

He was not sure why he was trying to communicate with her while she was sleeping but he feared that this was the only way to have a 'civilised' conversation without her or he being stubborn.

"Erik." This time she moved round so she was facing him. Erik half expected her to be smiling at him with her deep eyes locked with his, however her eyes were still shut.

He smiled and brushed her hair out of her face. "I am here." He risked his hand to reach out and touch her hand but he panicked and withdrew.

Christine stretched out in her snooze and sighed. Erik thought that she was terribly fascinating when she slept even though this was the first time he had actually seen her do this. He rested his weary head down on the covers and listened to her breathing.

"Hmm." Christine moved again this time turning her back to him. Erik did not move but instead he closed his eyes and was thankful for this peaceful moment with her. But then she said something that did not make him happy. Not one bit. "Raoul."

Erik slowly raised his head and hung his mouth open in confusion. "Raoul." She murmured again and Erik's eyes narrowed. He gripped the bed and his breathing became out of sync and heavy. He gritted his teeth and stormed out of the room.

He growled and held his head in his hands tightly, almost torturing himself for what he had just heard. Erik pulled at his hair actually forcing some strands to come out. He stared at them and let out another growl. He cursed loudly, not caring now if he woke Christine or not. He paced around knocking candles over into the lake and throwing his music all over the floor. Erik then picked up his work and began to crumple it up and rip it. He was so angry. He did not mean to do these things when he was irritated; no one does. Erik continued to curse at himself and Raoul, yet never at Christine. He did not dare.

As he prowled around in his rage looking for his next victim he broke into tears. Erik looked over at Christine's room and then at his ruined music and wept even more. He stormed over to the pillar and punched it with both hands before throwing his head in his hands. He slowly slid down the side of the pillar and into a pathetic heap on the floor.

Later on Christine woke up with gasping. She blinked to adjust her eyes. Christine then had her nightmare flooding back to her. She remembered in the dream that she was performing on stage and everyone was laughing at her. She wasn't doing anything wrong, they were just laughing at her for fun. Christine remembered seeing Carlotta leading the laugh parade at the front. She gasped as she recollected Erik coming to shield her and that he had kept her safe from the crowd. She frowned as she could have sworn that his holding her was real. It felt real. She touched her arms as if he was touching her. She sighed and then she remembered something else. After a few moments Erik had disappeared and Raoul had replaced him.

Christine sighed and stood up. She could hear music, dark powerful music that filled the whole lair and echoed off the walls. It was so loud and so angry. Christine ventured out of her room and saw Erik violently playing on his organ. She huffed and quickly went to him. She had never seen him like this before tonight and she was worried about him. As she speed-walked over to him she noticed his music laying uncared for on the floor. She opened her mouth at the sight and unconsciously began to gather them up. She huffed and puffed and it almost brought tears to her eyes to see her teacher's master pieces like this.

Erik stopped playing when he heard the sound of paper. He spun around on his organ chair and stared at Christine. She did not retreat back, she gave him a shattering look and ran to him with pity in her eyes and his music falling out of her arms.

"Oh Erik." She whispered as she gave him back his music.

He gulped and held out his shaky hands that carefully took the music. He placed the sheets next to him and stared at the floor. A few seconds passed and Christine felt a sudden urge to take care of him. She placed a hand under his chin and raised his head so that he was looking her in the eye. He looked awfully sad and his eyes were glistening with tears. Christine did not like seeing him like this.

Erik continued to not look at her when his tears got the better of him and started to fall down his face. He sobbed and Christine placed her hands on his shoulders and rubbed them. She smiled kindly at him even though he would not look at her. Erik then slid off his chair and fell to his knees with a thud. Christine's hands moved from his shoulders to his face. She hushed him and wiped the tears from his face. He sulked and clung to her dress. She looked down at him and sighed. Christine allowed him to dig his weeping head into her dress and cry. He gripped the material so tightly that she saw his knuckles turn completely white. She slowly stroked his hair and mumbled, "Hush, hush."

"Christine." He uttered between his sobs. "Christine, forgive me. Forgive me." He paused waiting for his cries to slow down before continuing. "I have acted like a fool these past weeks allowing myself to fall in love you. But I do Christine, I love you. I am only setting myself up to get hurt like I have always done in the past..." His cries interrupted him although he took a deep breath and held any more of them back. "I am not worthy of you. I am not even worthy to grovel at your feet." He laughed which only brought tears to Christine's eyes. He tried to shove away from her but she kept him close. "And who knows, perhaps in time, my dear, you will come to love me. Oh what are you talking about Erik? You are a demon who cares for an angel." He laughed demonically and stared at her. "How can this be?"

Christine did not smile and she wondered why Erik was. "You are not a demon, and I am certainly not an angel. If anything, it is _y__ou _who are the angel. After everything you have done for me ... it is _I _who am not worthy of _you_."

Erik pulled his head back from her dress and shook his head in disbelief. He smirked. "No, Christine. You do not owe me anything."

He stood up so that he was looking down at her. His eyes were almost dry but Christine did not want to leave him alone. He snapped out of the moment and turned to sit on his chair. "Would you like to hear something that I have been working on?"

Christine stared at him bewildered by his mood swings but she made a noise in agreement and went to sit on the sofa. She could not keep her eyes off him when he started to play. His music was compelling and wonderful and suggestive. She found her heart beating in time with his music.


	14. Underneath

Christine wasn't sure how to act around her teacher now. She didn't know exactly what set him off on one of his rages and she also had absolutely no idea how to predict his next move. Take the next day for example; Christine was sitting uncomfortably eating the dinner that Erik had prepared for her while he watched her from the other side of the room. The word dinner is used in its minimalist approach here; when I say he made her dinner, he actually just gave her a cold plate of bread. Erik had explained that he had no time to get proper food so this would just have to make do. Christine kept an eye on him for she was aware that he could be completely erratic sometimes. She sat on the sofa chewing away at her meal and sighed.

She had missed her honoured celebration the night before and she wondered how people were reacting to her disappearance. She wondered how Raoul would have reacted. Oh she missed him, greatly. She forced down her last mouth full of stale bread and she cleaned her mouth. She placed the plate next to her and looked at Erik. He stood up suddenly and Christine waited expectedly of him.

"Why did you utter that _boy's _name?" He spat making the words sound like venom.

Christine stared at him. "What?"

He turned from her. "Do not attempt to be ignorant with me, girl. Last night, while you were sleeping, you . . . talked." Christine stood up not believing that he had watched her as she slept. "You spoke my name and his." He spun on his heels and stomped over to her and glared down at her. Christine shivered at his burning eyes. "Why?" He growled.

Christine jumped and refused to meet his eyes. "Erik." She whispered. "It was just a dream."

Erik fumed and growled at her. He turned his back to her and stormed off in the other direction. Christine stood observing Erik with her arms slightly outstretched as if she wanted to go to him. She had no intention of taking any notice of him when he was like this though.

He laughed unkindly at her and started to pace. He stared at her angrily every time he went past her. Christine winced at his sudden aggressiveness towards her. "Ha! Just a dream then, Christine? Everyone has dreams, even I dream, but I do not talk in my slumber when there is a chance of someone listening in!"

"If I did talk it would have been quietly! Why would you take such a notice in what I say when I do not know I am even saying it?" She looked away from his masked face. "Why, Erik, were you watching me sleep?"

He walked right up to her making Christine retreat just the tiniest bit. He smirked. "That is beside the point my dear. But if you did not want Erik to hear you then you should have been quiet, should you not?"

"And what about Raoul bothers you so?" She asked silently.

His back stiffened at the sound of that _boy's_ name. He breathed heavily and snapped his head down to look directly at Christine. He spoke with spitefulness in his words and yet his eyes were sad. So very sad. "That _boy_ is taking my pride and glory away from me, Christine! I made you the star and not that snobbish unaffectionate man. He is not worthy of you. Do you want to know why?" He smirked. "Because he only recognised you when you were on that stage, my dear."

Christine looked at her feet and stuttered. "He. . . He recognised me then because. . . because that was when he heard me sing again."

Erik threw his head back and laughed to himself. "Ah Christine. You are young. You will learn."

He reached a hand out to touch her face but she flinched and stepped back. Erik opened his mouth and seemed quite shunned at her reaction but then his words came back to him and he apologised to her; just barely mind you. She stood back from him shocked that Erik would say such a thing against her friend.

Christine stared at the floor away from Erik. "What has this got to do with anything, Erik? I do not understand you! I just-"

"_That_ is just the thing, Christine my dear." He snarled. "No one does."

Christine, with wide eyes, threw her arms up in defeat. She looked at him and sighed at her erratic teacher. She spoke softly to him. "No one does because you do not let them in, Erik." She stared at him eye to eye. "I want to understand." She began to reach for his mask. "If you would let me in then I would be-"

Erik, when seeing what she was trying to do, grabbed her wrists forced them down. She gasped at his quick movement. A sudden uplift ness spread across his face; Christine could see it in his eyes. "I know what we need, my dear. Music." He guided a worried Christine over to the organ and he started to play.

She watched him as he drifted off into his own world which she knew she would never understand. But maybe, just maybe, if she knew what he was hiding underneath his mask then she would understand. She would finally know the man behind the mask. However as she thought more about him she started to wonder why he wore it in the first place. Surely it wasn't _just _to conceal his identity from her. There had to be more. If only she could just see what he was hiding . . .

Christine was more compelled than ever to rip his mask off and _make _herself understand him at last. She slowly reached up to his masked face with both hands and let them cup the air around the mask. "Oh Erik." She breathed. "What has the world done to you?"

In one fast fling she ripped the mask off and held it in her hand. She smiled to herself and quickly looked at it. When she returned her eyes to Erik she noticed that he was rigid standing upright with his hands clinging to his face. She raised her eyebrow waiting for him to show her his face .

She heard him growl once again and snarl at her. "Foolish girl. _Foolish _girl." He removed his hands from his face. "Is _this_-" He spun round with a claw like hand near his face. "-what you wanted to see?"

Christine's smile vanished and was replaced by a shriek. The shriek actually got caught in her throat and she threw a hand to her neck thinking she had lost her voice. She gasped for air and backed away from her mask-less teacher.

Standing before her was the most horrific sight she had ever encountered. _The rumours were true about him! Get out! Get out of there! _She screamed in her head. His entire face, all of which the mask had covered, was deformed and mangled like a corpse. His whole face actually reminded Christine of a rotting corpse. His skin was pale, so very pale and pasty. He had a sickly nose which almost blended in with the rest of his almost wrinkled complexion. His eyes, if it was possible, had become more menacing. They bulged out of his head and Christine swore that they were not white, but yellow. Erik glared at her and started to follow her with an arm outstretched.

Christine, without thinking, ran for her room. Erik, tried to cover his face and turn away from her in favour o her disgust for him. She stopped right outside her room suddenly remembering that she still had his mask gripped in her trembling hand. She fixed her gaze on it and then took a deep breath before looking round at Erik. Christine, shaken, as she was summoned the courage to walk back to him. She hesitantly touched his shoulder with her free hand and immediately looked at the floor when he turned. She could not lay her eyes on his face, she told herself once that she could handle whatever he was hiding, but obviously she was lying to herself. Erik stared at Christine with his sad mad eyes and reached for the mask. As soon as he took it she quickly brought her arm back to her body and away from him.

He placed the mask back on his head and smoothed out his hair. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed him doing this but she still would not look at him. She retreated back to her room but whispered, "I am sorry. Truly I am." She hoped that she had heard him.

Erik _had _heard her and he watched her escape from his devil cursed face and into the peace of her room far away from him.

* * *

**Once again, thank you for the reviews and support:D And yes: in chapter 12 (and a bit in this one) the characters were more based on the book's version than any other version. But thank you again and keep reading:)**


	15. Freedom

After the incident with the mask; Christine and Erik did not converse much. Although avoiding each other was out of the question since she was confined to his territory until further notice. Christine did make an effort to make any sort of contact with him, whether it was speaking or even looking at him. Yet all the while she could not get the horrifying image of her unmasked teacher out of her mind. She wanted to forget, she wanted to forget the whole business and have herself not care about what he looked like. But it was not so easy for her. His face would stay engraved in her mind, probably forever.

Erik, too, also tried to be in the same room with Christine without repulsing or frightening her. He stayed as far away from the her as possible. He preferred to keep to his darkness and so that is what he did. He liked to watch her from there and continued to do so until at the end of the week she seemed really quite restless. In fact he only came to watch her when she sang. Some days she sang to herself but other days she sang for him. And other days, much to Erik's disapproval, she sang of and for Raoul.

Christine was singing a little folk song when she suddenly stopped. This was then followed by her huffing and puffing and storming around the lair. The truth was that she was bored stiff of her restricted premises. She paced around for a while and then she flopped herself down by the edge of the lake. Erik watched her from a corner, being cautious so that she wouldn't see him. Christine looked at her reflection in the perfectly still water. She touched her face and looked disgusted by it. Her skin was very pale and she had deep circles under her eyes. But she then realised that her being sensitive about her looks was only a punch in the face towards Erik.

She frowned at her reflection and splashed the water with one flick of her hand. Her image became distorted and the water began to ripple. Once it had calmed she proceeded in caressing the liquid with the very tips of her fingers.

Erik sighed and took one last look at Christine. He knew that he had to release her soon. However he put that thought at the back at his mind and gracefully walked into his room. Christine didn't even hear his door close but she realised that she was alone. This was the first time she had been on her own all week. While still sitting she glanced at the passage heading through and out to freedom ahead of her. This wasn't the first time she had thought about escaping but the thought of leaving Erik in his fragile state made her weep. She stood up and something at the corner of her eye caught her attention. It sparkled in the light and it sat very expectedly on Erik's organ. It was the ring. The ring that she had most wickedly laughed at.

She went over to pick it up and inspected its every detail. It was beautiful, she had to admit that. It was perfectly crafted and the overall look of it was stunning. Christine wondered what it would look like on her hand. And so she slid on the ring. . She giggled at the very sight of her with it on and then proceeded to act very silly indeed. She acted like how she was after her first performance. Giddy. She hummed to herself which gradually turned into a haunting melody. She didn't take her eyes off the ring as she started to sway.

Erik emerged out of his room when he heard her voice. He peeked round the curtain only showing his head and hand. His eyes grew wide when he saw that she had his ring on her finger. He stood gazing at her. _What an extraordinary woman_, he thought to himself.

Erik; without thinking, made his way to where she was, hoping just hoping that this was her agreeing to wear his ring indefinitely. Christine slammed her mouth shut when she saw Erik standing closely in front of her. Erik shook his head. "Do not stop, my dear."

She blushed and quickly hid both of her hands behind her back wishing that he had not seen her with the ring on. She tried to ease it off but she couldn't do so without moving her arms about so. "Sing."

Christine obeyed. He walked towards his organ and so did she. Their walk was slow as they never took their eyes away from one and other. They stepped in time with each other until they reached the organ. Even then Erik didn't look away as he began to play along with her music. Christine was impressed in how he could appear so ... so normal at times. She was also impressed with his playing and his music. His music spoke to her in ways that she could never had imagined.

She soaked in each note of the organ and satisfied Erik with her performance. She wondered if she would ever get to perform in front of a stage again. After the final notes had been played the two looked at each other for the briefest moment and then turned away.

Erik was collecting his music when Christine spoke to him, "You play beautifully." He froze but didn't look at her.

"You _sing_ beautifully, my dear. Let us not forget who the star is."

"Oh but I am not!" She looked at him suddenly filled with courage. "And I am not forgetting who made me the star. You, Erik, you made me the star." She paused. "How can I ever start to make it up to you? Not just for the singing but for ... the ... the ... awful thing that I did to you. I should never have removed your mask. I-"

"You want to make it up to me?" He stood up and turned to look at her. She nodded.

He sighed and looked down at his feet. Erik walked back to his room and Christine thought that he was just going to ignore her once again. He surprised her when he stopped half way into his room and turned his head slightly to her. He spoke in a whisper. "If you want to repay me, wear my ring, as you are now." Christine blushed and brought her hands back into view. "It would make me happy to know that you are wearing it. If you do so I will let you return to the surface." Christine looked at him and smiled, not knowing whether he truly had just uttered those words. "Do you promise, me dear, that you will wear my ring?"

She nodded and she found herself running towards him to thank him but he held his hand up to signal her to stop. He shook his head. "There is no need to thank me. They need you back there anyway and so I will grant them their wish. You will return there tonight."

* * *

There was so much havoc when Christine resurfaced. There were so many questions, many, in fact all of which remained unanswered by the soprano. Madame Giry supported her by saying plainly to the crowd that she was overwhelmed by her success and needed to take a well-earned break for a week or so. Everyone was pleased that she had returned, especially Raoul who spared no expense in trying to talk to her. One that was not pleased was Carlotta; in fact she was overjoyed when she heard that Christine was missing because she got to have her presence on stage once again.

Christine, finally able to break away from the inquisitive crowd, was walking around outside near the Opera for some air. She spun around at the sound of a voice. "Christine."

It was Raoul. She forgot herself and flew into his arms. "Raoul! You cannot believe how good it is to see you again, my friend."

He chuckled and held her at arm's length. "Oh Christine, where have you been? Everyone has been asking for you and..." He stopped and laughed. He then offered her his arm. "Shall we take a stroll together?"

Christine nodded and linked her arm in his. "How have you been lately, Raoul?"

"Oh, well where do I start?" He said in a very jokingly way which made Christine giggle. "First off I want to say how glad I am to see you well and rested; I never really got the chance to speak with you alone that night though. I did not get the chance to say some things then-"

"But maybe you will now?" She glanced at him and smiled, as did he.

"Maybe, Christine." He laughed. How happy she was to hear a laugh and to see a proper smile again. "Where was I? Oh yes, well secondly I am annoyed with my brother who insists that we leave the opera and only attend when it is necessary." She frowned. "Oh, it has nothing to do with you, Christine, it is to do with that _woman._"

"La Carlotta?"

"Yes, that is the one. My brother thinks she has the most ghastly voice he has ever heard. And I can say I cannot blame him! And the way she speaks to her managers! I would not be surprised if I mistook _her_ for the manager!" He sighed. "I do not wish to leave. I want to stay with you." They laughed together and Christine rested her head on his shoulder. "And thirdly I am freezing my toes off out here. What about you?"

"The cold never seems to bother me much, Raoul."

He laughed again showing Christine his perfect crooked mouth. But then something changed in him and he looked very puzzled. Christine frowned at him and then realised what he was staring at. The ring. She opened her mouth to explain but Raoul interrupted her. "Christine, who gave you that?"

She looked away. "An admirer."

A severe look of disappointment flashed across his face. "Ah, so you are married?"

Christine stared at him and chuckled. "No! No, I am not."

"Engaged, then?"

"No. The ring, you see, it is from an admirer. The admirer is my teacher. He gave me it as a-" she had to think of a good lie, "-gift."

Raoul gave her a look which Christine simply shrugged her shoulders at. They continued to talk about everything as they strolled down Paris arm in arm. Christine felt strangely content with Raoul and she had no idea whether or not he felt the same way. They had walked two miles, not realising how far they had actually went, and stopped. The sun was setting and the warm glow on the sun rested on their faces and the buildings. Raoul stopped her in her tracks and stood there looking into her eyes. They beamed at each other and Christine thought how handsome he looked in this light. He reached out and brushed her face lightly with his fingers. She thought he was going to kiss her, which would have been sublime, if it wasn't for the sound of fairground music floating their way.

They looked towards where the sound was coming from and gave each other a quick glance. It sounded like what the music described it as: a fairground. The music they heard must have been from a carousal. She smiled hopefully at Raoul who smiled back and shook his head. "Can we, Raoul? I have never been before!"

He scoffed at her. "You have never been to a fairground before? I find that quite hard to believe."

Christine was hardly listening to him for she was already walking towards the music with a huge grin on her face. She turned to walk backwards and she held her arms out for Raoul to take. "Come on, Raoul! It will be fun!"

Raoul said nothing but took Christine's hand and the two ran towards the fair like a couple of excited children. Raoul was pleased that he was about to spend some alone time with Christine. And Christine was just thankful to have any sort of fun after what she had been through the past week.


	16. Emotions

Christine had never laughed so much in her life. She and Raoul spent the whole evening together at the fairground; talking and holding hands. The sunset made everything that much better and brighter. Raoul acted like a prefect gentleman through the entire time yet he wanted to do something, something that Christine wanted to do too. They both wanted to share a kiss.

Sure they had several opportune moments to do so but they didn't want the moment to be shared in public. Especially because they were both well-known and they would be the hype of Paris's gossip this year. Christine appreciated the publicity but not _that _kind of publicity and Raoul was too unsure about his true feelings for her to make any sort of decision. For all he knew; she was just another girl. But to Christine; Raoul was her oldest friend and she had loved him since childhood. She was sure of her feelings.

During their time at the fair they saw many things. They saw acrobats, jugglers, fortune tellers, singers, rides and a maze of mirrors. Christine felt like a child again as she watched amazed by the wonders in front of her. Raoul trailed along behind her, rolling his eyes at her enthusiasm for the entertainers. He had seen these acts before and was not that thrilled about seeing them again; but it was for Christine so he tried to enjoy the amusements.

As time passed, the night drew closer and they had more and more fun. The sky had turned from rose and yellow to dark shades of blue and was now almost black. The lights were then lit up and it completely changed the entire atmosphere of the fairground. The lights shone out making everything more detailed. Christine twirled around Raoul and he stood watching her in delight.

Christine then heard the music. The music that had first drawn them here. She walked forward with Raoul following close behind her. And then she saw it. The carousel. It had a small crowd around it and it was spinning fast making the brilliant colours blur. She smiled at Raoul and pulled him towards the scene. She asked if they could go on it and he replied that it was quite childish. Yet after a couple of minutes of Christine persuading him to go on it with her, he agreed. And to his surprise; he enjoyed it.

When the carousel stopped to let people on and off Christine had to practically drag Raoul to it. He came obediently but quietly. Christine chose a rather tall horse which was the middle one of three. Raoul hopped onto the one to her right. She beamed at him and she grabbed hold of the pole coming from the horse with both hands. Once the carousel started up again she leaned her head on the pole and looked out at the crowd. Raoul watched her with curiosity and smiled. As they spun round and round Raoul felt free and young. He felt free from his obligations at the Opera, so did Christine. The young duo kept glancing towards each other and then away.

Half way through, it seemed Raoul got quite bored of just sitting on the horse and so he stood up on it. Christine was shocked but she threw her head in laughter all the same. She reached out to him and tugged on his hand to try to get him to sit back down. She couldn't hear that well over the music but it sounded as if he as muttering something about racing against Christine and that he was winning. She rolled her eyes and looked back into the spinning crowd.

_Everything_ was spinning, the lights, the people and all the stalls; that is all except one. The maze of mirrors. Christine had to squint and it took her a few times round to see what was so different about it. She looked and then she saw. Her breath caught and she immediately looked away shielding her eyes. Raoul noticed this and sat on his horse. He touched her shoulder and asked her what was wrong. She covered her true emotions with a forced smile and laugh. He soon was laughing too and yelling to the carousel controller to make it spin faster.

Christine peered back towards the maze of mirrors and saw the one thing that she thought she had got away from. Erik. How could he have known that she was here? With Raoul? _Oh no! He has seen me with Raoul! How could I do this to Erik? Especially after I agreed to wear his ring ... and now I am celebrating my freedom with another man. _

She slammed her eyes shut until the ride came to a halt. As soon as it had stopped Christine's eyes flew open. She glanced over at the maze of mirrors and saw nothing. No one was there. _Did I imagine him there? _Raoul jumped off his horse in one slick movement and offered to help Christine down. She took his offer and they walked off into the crowd. Christine found herself clinging to Raoul's arm and looking frantically in the direction of the mirrors, not believing that there was nothing there now.

"Christine what has gotten into you?" He stoked her hair and her head flicked back to look at him with concerned eyes. She breathed slowly and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Can you take me somewhere else, please Raoul?" She pleaded quietly into Raoul's shoulder.

"Oh course, where?"

She shook her head. "I do not mind, as long as it is away from here."

Raoul held her tight and said, "OK, I will take you back to the Opera ho-"

"No! Oh no Raoul. Not there!" If she wanted to get away from Erik then returning to the Opera House was not the best idea.

He thought for a moment and then said, "I have a little apartment not too far from here."

"How far, Raoul?"

"Not far, perhaps a ten minute walk?"

She nodded and allowed him to take her there.

It wasn't until she was inside that she realised that she was away from Erik but locked in with Raoul. Alone. She felt herself blush intensely.

Raoul guided Christine towards the living room decorated with a huge burning fire-place. She looked around at the beautiful furniture and sculptures that just made the room. She watched as Raoul sat down on a rug by the fire and saw him pat the space beside him. She lingered where she was and then went over to join him.

"Christine?"

"Hmm?" She rubbed her cold arms.

"What got into you back there, Christine?"

She stared at the fire. "I, er, you would not understand, Raoul."

He raised an eyebrow and scooted closer to her. She bit her lip at the closing gap between them. "Uh huh? Christine, you can tell me. I am your friend, after all."

Christine turned her head and looked into his eyes. _He is very handsome. _She thought and she felt herself move a little bit closer in his direction. "Well, um, have you heard the legend that circulates the Opera House?"

Raoul frowned. "Yes. The masked ghost who haunts the Opera's walls."

She nodded and gulped. "To make a long-" _and quite disturbing, _"-story short; he was the reason that I was able to sing as Marguerite in Faust. He requested to the managers that I was to sing. And knowing the consequences of refusing the managers did not think twice and they cast me." She stared into the flames. "And now, I have the strangest feeling that ... he is following me." Raoul raised his eyebrow again and laughed. She pierced a glare at him. "I swear that was who I saw at the fair. That is why I seemed jumpy. I _saw_ him!" She sighed. "I am afraid Raoul. I am afraid that he will never stop. He will always be there."

She threw her arms around Raoul in despair. _No! What am I talking about? It is Erik, my teacher! Nothing more, nothing less. Yes, he does scare me sometimes, but why does he have to be like that? _She shuddered and Raoul wrapped his arms around her to warm her up. _Oh Raoul. Dear, sweet Raoul..._

She looked up at him and inspected every inch of his face. Her eyes stayed on his lips for a few long moments and she saw them spread into a smile. She blushed and looked away. Raoul guided her head back to his with his hand and then pressed his lips down onto hers. The kiss was short and sweet but it had held what both had been waiting for.

They leaned against each other, side by side, thankful for the warmth of the fire. This proceeded onto them talking constantly about everything and anything; operas, books, food, clothes, and even some memories of when they were children. All throughout this time, Raoul couldn't help but steal a few more kisses from his sweetheart, every time making her smile and blush a deep pink.

After two hours of talking, they gave up and just sat there holding hands. Christine bit her lip stopping her grin to spread even more across her face than it already had. "It looks like you have two admirers now, Christine." He flashed her another brilliant smile.

Christine smiled but still shied away from Raoul's words. "Yes, it looks as if I have."

"I wonder which one you favour." And with that Raoul closed the distance between them and kissed her once more.

He tasted so good and Christine found her kisses to be more and more demanding with each kiss. He started to move his hands down her body, past her arms and waist and all the way to her legs. She broke the kiss to catch her breath.

Her breathing was heavy and unsure, but there was a dark look that sparkled in her eyes that said otherwise. Raoul, suspecting her doubts, removed his hands. Without thinking, she grabbed Raoul's hands and placed them back on her waist.

"Are you sure, Christine?"

Christine didn't want to speak at all so she simply nodded. Even though she was acting on impulse here, she still had some sense still in her. The problem was that she didn't want to listen to it. _I just want to forget. Help me forget..._

He proceeded to move his hand down her leg, with his other stroked her hair. He let his fingers get tangled in the mess of curls and smiled when he saw Christine blush again. Raoul suddenly stopped and held Christine back. She was about to protest but he hushed her and led her upstairs. He opened a pair of grand doors and ushered her inside quickly. He shut them behind her and gazed at her in awe. They smiled at each other as Raoul brought her to the bed.


	17. The morning after the night before

Christine awoke to the sound of birds and light shinning in through a large window. She yawned and stretched out lying her arms behind her head. The memories from the night before came rushing back to her. Every kiss, every touch, every word. She peered over to the side to see if these memories were real.

She found Raoul sleeping peacefully next to her with morning hair. She grinned at him and slowly caressed his face with her fingertips.

"Pinch me, I think I am dreaming." She whispered. "I have not felt this happy in years."

She jumped when something actually did pinch her. Her eyes stared at Raoul, who was now propped up on his elbow with his hand slightly outstretched towards her.

Christine laughed and playfully slapped him on the arm. "Raoul!"

He laughed and fell back onto his back. "What? You did ask to be pinched."

She smirked. "Yes, but I did not mean it!" She beamed at him. "Anyway, I thought you were still sleeping."

He chucked at her and took her hand in his. "How could I sleep when I know that you were awake?" He started to kiss each finger individually. Christine breathed into his touch and honestly thought that she could stay like this forever.

She then bolted straight up and started to get dressed without any word of warning to Raoul. "What is it, Christine, dear?"

"I-" she spoke between each breath and getting dressed, "-I have to go, Raoul. I have rehearsals. I think I am late already."

"But Christine, you do not have to lea-"

"If I wish to remain as leading lady I have to go. I have a job to do, Raoul." She stopped as she finished quickly putting her skirt and corset on. She walked over to Raoul and leaned on the bed. She smiled at him and kissed his nose. He smiled and then tried to lean in for a proper kiss. Christine laughed and scrambled off the bed. She continued to put each layer of clothing on with ease. Raoul propped himself up with his elbow and watched Christine with great interest.

She smirked at him. "Do not look at me like that, Raoul!" She said in a teasing voice. "It will only make me want to stay."

"Well then I will continue doing it." She grinned at her showing her his wonderful crooked smile.

Once Christine had finished dressing and fixed her hair she went over to kiss Raoul goodbye. She leaned her head into his and he sighed. "Are you sure you will not stay, Christine?"

"Yes I am sure." She pecked him lightly on the lips and stood by the door. "Will you come to rehearsals later, Raoul? I would appreciate a friendly face there."

"Oh course." He said smiling at her. Oh how she loved his smile.

She gave him a half sided smile and left the room. She sighed happily to herself and practically ran down the elegant stairs. She was about to open to front door when she noticed a letter on the ground. She assumed it was for Raoul. Although it could have been for Philippe who thankfully was not present in the apartment last night. She picked it up to put it onto a nearby table but froze instead. She knew the penmanship well and stared at who the letter was addressed to. She couldn't believe it .It was addressed to her. Christine held the letter close to her and exited the building.

As soon as she was out in the open she opened the letter.

_To my dearest Christine,_

_you seem very happy to be up on the surface again, but I must wonder why you are choosing to waste your time with that Count._

_I do hope that he did not take advantage of you when you were all alone in there with him. I also hope that you are still wearing my ring. You see, I would be very unhappy if these were false hopes. Erik would not want to see his Christine get hurt. But if she does then he will hurt the one who hurt you more. Do not worry. _

_You must meet me, my dear. We must talk about your performance and a few other minor details that I would like to pick up on._

_Yours sincerely, Erik._

_P.S. If I ever catch you out with that boy again I will let him have a taste of hell._

Christine pushed the letter straight into her pocket without giving it a second glance and ran for the Opera House.


	18. Notes

"Please, please. Settle down!" Spoke Madame Giry to the cast. "Christine will not answer any more questions and that is final."

"But, er," a voice perked up. Carlotta. When she spoke she spoke directly to Christine. "_Dear_, I not understand. You say you need rest, yes? But you-"

"Carlotta, please." Madame Giry held up a hand. "Leave, Mademoiselle Daaé alone and get on with your rehearsals."

Carlotta gritted her teeth. "I will not be bossed around by a ballet teacher!" She threw her arms up and fanned her face with her hands. "I am the star! I need no rehearsal!"

"In fact, you are wrong madam. You are not in it at all. You were simply a replacement for Mademoiselle Daaé."

Carlotta narrowed her eyes. "Moi? I am not in it? Ha ha, you make me laugh. And you-" she glared at Christine and spoke very meanly, "-you go and practise, _dear_. You need it." She threw her head back in laughter and left the stage. Madame Giry told everyone just to continue like normal and she would be back after she had spoken with Carlotta.

Christine watched as Madame Giry ran after the diva and let her alone on stage with staring eyes. Roberto came up to her and rubbed her arm. "Christine, take no notice of that woman. She does not know what she is talking about."

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Said the conductor. "Please take your places for the beginning." No one listened. "Ladies and gent-" he grew agitated and started to tap his baton on the music stand, "-ladies and gentlemen!" He shouted.

All eyes were on him and he cleared his voice to continue. "Can we _please _take it from the top?"

Some cast members laughed at his annoyance but soon enough they were all in position and ready to start. The orchestra fired up and the opening with Doctor Faust went smoothly. Christine kept peeking out from the wings to see if her beloved was here. She sighed whenever she looked and saw that he wasn't here yet. She smiled at the thought of Raoul being here with her.

Soon, act I had finished and the music rolled onto act II. Christine got into her position and entered from behind a wooden door. She had practised this a hundred times and so she knew the whole Opera back to front. She wondered why they needed any more practise in the first place.

Christine, as Marguerite, acted along side Roberto and was about to start singing. She was interrupted by Carlotta strutting on stage in full costume and was confused when she started to sing the role of Marguerite. Carlotta shoved Christine to the side and continued to sing. Christine stood there frowning at Carlotta. The other cast members had seemed to take no notice in Christine's limelight being taken. She hung her mouth open as she slowly walked backwards into the wings puzzled. It was like they had know that this was going to happen. When she was in the wings she accidentally bumped into someone. She turned around, half hoping it was Raoul. It wasn't Raoul, it was Richard.

"Monsieur Richard. I er-"

He placed a hand on her back and began to walk with the confused soprano. "Mademoiselle Daaé, we need to speak with you."

Once he had brought her to a quiet place backstage he explained. "You see, even though your debut had the entire Opera sold out, the audience had expected you to appear more than once, Mademoiselle Daaé. During your rest period, La Carlotta demanded that she sung Marguerite and, well, we have agreed with those demands. While she performed we received no notes or letters of complaint from the Phantom, yet when you returned yesterday we-" he held his hand out with a piece of paper in his hand, "-received this."

_Oh Lord, not another letter. _She broke the seal and began to read.

_To my managers,_

_I know all too well that you have been allowing La Carlotta to sing the lead in Faust, and frankly it has come to my attention that you need to shut that woman up. For good. Now that Mademoiselle _Daaé i_s well rested she is expected, by me, to perform again as Marguerite. I also expect that box five will remain open and empty for my use. _

_You may also wish to speak to your string section in the orchestra. Normally they are pleasing to listen to, but recently the tuning, in the upper register especially, has been hard on the ears._

_Yours sincerely O.G_

Christine handed the letter back to Richard. "Could you then please tell Carlotta that I will be singing please, Monsieur."

Richard scratched his head. "Well, Mademoiselle Daaé, that is a problem."

"What do you mean, Monsieur?"

"What I mean, Mademoiselle Daaé, is that Carlotta is highly demanded and very popular in Paris and even though we received this note," he held it up to her face, "we did not have any unwanted incidents happening that was on the Phantom's part."

Christine frowned. "So you are saying that you are allowing Carlotta to sing, Monsieur, just because the Phantom has not objected to her personally?"

"Yes, Mademoiselle."

"But he has objected!" She looked at the letter and then back to him. "He has objected in this letter!"

"Mademoiselle Daaé. These are notes, they are words. They mean nothing. He has not taken the liberty of resurface and cause trouble, and so we are going to make the most of that advantage."

"But-"

"But nothing, Mademoiselle. Carlotta will perform Marguerite with yourself performing in the chorus as before, is that clear?"

Christine stood there staring at him but she nodded anyway.

"I am sorry, Mademoiselle Daaé. Perhaps La Carlotta will allow you to perform in the next Opera, but for now you-"

"Christine, Richard!" The both turned to see Raoul jogging to them. The two men bowed their heads towards each other and Christine managed a small smile. "I hope I am not interrupting anything."

"Oh no, Monsieur De Chagny, not at all." He looked at Christine. "Are we clear now, Mademoiselle?"

She nodded but did not look him. Richard bowed to Raoul and Christine and then walked away off the stage. Raoul hugged Christine and she hugged him back tightly.

"Are you feeling alright, darling?" Asked Raoul who held her face in his hands.

"Um." She frowned. "I have just been told that I will no longer be singing as Marguerite and that Carlotta will be taking my place."

He scoffed and glared at the stage where Carlotta stood. "Is that what Richard was speaking to you about?" She nodded. "And he removed you from your role just because you were a little late to rehearsals this morning? That is barbaric! I will talk to him, do not worry. You will be the Prima Donna once again after I speak with him."

"No, Raoul. It was not because I was late."

"Then what is the reason, pray tell?"

"It is too much to explain so early on in the day." She lightly touched his arm. "Do not worry for me Raoul, I am fine with the decision." She forced a smile.

"Funny. You do not look fine." Her smile was wiped from her face. "Look, I will talk to the managers. I have power, they will listen to me-"

"It is no use." She sighed. "There is no way that they will let me sing. There is no way that _she _will let me sing. Oh God, why cannot one single thing go right in my life?"

Raoul gave her a sympathic smile and pulled her into an embrace. "I can try to talk to them, Christine, and I wi-"

"No Raoul. Do not get mixed up in this, please. Please do not." She held his face and ran her fingers through his soft hair.

_Get mixed up in what? What is she not telling me? _"Fine." He spoke abruptly. "But I am not happy with being pushed aside like this."

She smiled at his caring and caught his eye. He smiled back but she could see that he wasn't going to let this go. He _would _meddle in this business and then something terrible would happen - she was sure of it. He crushed his lips onto hers and she melted into his embrace. Images of the night before flashed up in her mind and then before she got too into the kiss she broke it off.

He smiled at her and she blushed. "Not here, Raoul. They might see us." _He might see us. _She added in her mind.

"I do not care. Let them see." He leaned down to kiss her again and she laughed. "What is so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing, Raoul." She stayed there in his arms for a while until something clicked at the back of her mind.

She remembered Erik's warning and threat to Raoul and she pulled away from him. "I-I have to go, Raoul."

"What-?" Before he could finish talking Christine planted a soft kiss on his lips.

She left him with that and walked off to find Erik.


	19. Fear

**Just to tell you before hand: in this chapter Erik is much darker and is more violent than he was in the other chapters. Also, feel free to suggest things on what I can do to improve: ) and keep reading!**

* * *

Christine went to the only place where she could think of: her dressing room. Although, it was soon to be Carlotta's dressing room, much to her dismay. She went inside and shut the door behind her. Her eyes shut momentarily as she leaned the front of her body into the door. Christine breathed slowly and remained calm. She opened her eyes and turned around.

There the mirror stood open revealing the secret passage behind the walls. She locked the door before she forgot and then proceeded into the darkness. It did not take her long to find her way through the paths for she heard music, his music. It guided her through the mismatched walls of the Opera and to the door leading to Erik's domain. She noticed that the door was unlocked and assumed that he knew that she was coming. But how? He was such a mystery to her. She walked towards the door and it creaked opened.

In the distance she heard music blaring loudly and it echoed hauntingly off the walls. Christine made her way down the spiral staircase and thorough the passage way. Unlike the last time she was down here, she noticed the rats scuttling about her feet and screamed at the sight of them. In doing so she almost fell into the murky water but also the music had stopped in mid play. She looked up startled and saw that the boat was not there.

She walked forward to the edge of the lake where the boat should have been and peered around the corner. She still could not see it. She then same to the conclusion that she would have to, much to her disapproval, swim. Christine held up the hems of her dress and was about to step into the water when she heard something moving this way.

She let go of her dress and looked around the corner to see Erik steering the boat towards her. She smiled half heartedly at him and waited until he was near enough to step in. When he was by her side he stared at her and said sharply, "Get in."

He did not waste any time; as soon as she had both feet on board he pushed violently into the water so that the boat turned around in one swift unsteady motion. This caught Christine off guard and resulted in her falling onto the floor of the boat; it titled a bit and she clung onto the sides for dear life.

Once they arrived in the lair he stormed off the boat and over to one part of the room to simply stare at the wall. His hands, which were fiddling with them selves, were behind his back. Christine cautiously got out of the boat and stayed where she was by the bank and the boat; just in case. She could see that he was in one of his moods again and she sighed. Christine decided that she was not going to tell him about Carlotta replacing her in Faust for she knew that would only anger him more. She cleared her throat.

Christine could hear Erik muttering under his breath though she couldn't quite hear what he was saying. "I received your letter. Erik, what was it that you wanted me here for?"

"To talk of course, my dear."

Christine wandered over to the pillar and leaned against it. There was still quite a bit of distance between the two which made Christine relax. "Yes but what about, Erik?"

He ignored her and began to pace. She saw that he was wearing his mask - oh course he was, why wouldn't her when she was around? She let her eyes gaze around at her surroundings and stared at one spot that she had never noticed before. It was a door. It had a piece of tattered cloth placed onto it as if covering a hole. She found herself walking towards it and reaching out with curiosity. Her hand went to the door handle and she was about to turn it when Erik's voice came out of no where.

"My dear, I would not advise you to do that."

She huffed. "And why not?"

He paused. "Because that is the torture chamber."

She gasped and recoiled at the words. She stumbled backwards and stopped when her back hit the pillar. She had a quick flashback to her first memories in here when she had fallen back against this pillar frightened. Christine then had a sweeping notion of déjà vu. She gulped and glanced over at Erik who was standing very still watching her.

"Christine?"

She breathed in and out of her mouth, almost panting. "Yes, Erik?"

He started to come forward ever so slowly which made Christine feel intimidated. He spoke very quietly at first. "Christine, why must you always disobey me? After I have warned you about spending time with that _boy_-"

"Raoul." She spoke confidently but cowered when she saw his anger towards his name. She looked away from him. "His name is Raoul."

"That is another thing, always interrupting! When are you going to learn your place?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw that he was standing directly in front of her. She gulped once again and frantically gripped the sides of the pillar for support. This time when he spoke his voice was louder and flat. "Why? Why would you go out of your way to defy me, Christine? I have warned you time and time again and yet you never listen. It is high time you did."

He shot his right hand out to rest on the pillar right in front of Christine's scared face. She stared, wide-eyed at his gloved hand and titled her head slightly away from it. Her eyes moved from his hand, up his arm and finally stopped at his mask. She froze when she was just how wild his eyes looked. She straightened her posture, determined not to make him think that she was afraid, even though she was.

"I hope you enjoyed your little evening with the Vicomte. Did you, Christine? Did you enjoy yourself?" She opened her mouth but he cut her off. "Oh course you did. And then he took you back to his house, did he not?" She said nothing. "I do not know what you two got up to in there; I do not wish to know but it frustrates me to see you with him."

He leaned his masked face towards her and Christine placed her head to the side so that she could be as far away from it as possible. "Do want to know why?"

"Why what?"

"Why it frustrates me so! Damn the heavens, you need to learn to listen!" He stared into her avoiding eyes and continued to edge his face closer to hers. She could feel his breath on her neck. "I am frustrated because he does not deserve you. No man does. And to make matters worse for you, dear, is that you are willingly putting your young man in danger by being with him. You do not want anything to happen to him, do you, Christine?" She shook her head and he smiled wickedly. "Oh course you do not. I know you." With his left hand he started to touch her hair and thread his fingers through her curls. "But I cannot help wondering my dear what _did _happen when you were alone with him."

She snapped her head back to look at him to protest, but that was a mistake. His face was just an inch from hers and she could feel his unwanted hot breath on her face. The very sensation of his breath on her skin sent shivers down her spine. All that she had to look at of him were his eyes and unfortunately, they were the most menacing part of him, besides his face. He spoke through his teeth coming across as a snarl. "I hope you just exchanged friendly conversation and not anything else; saliva for one thing. Are you two lovers, Christine? Do your limbs grow weak at the sight of him? Do your lions ache for him? Did you consummate your love for each other that night?"

Christine was shocked that he would say anything like that. She felt an urge to slap him and so she summoned all her strength she had and pulled back her hand back wanting it to collide with his masked face. Erik anticipated this and had snatched her wrist in mid-air before it had a chance to reach him. She gasped and let out a moan in struggle.

"How _dare _you, Erik! Why would you even suggest such a thing?" Her eyes were fierce and yet she was frightened that somehow he knew that she knew that he was speaking the truth.

He kept a firm grip on her wrist and hair as he raised an eyebrow under his mask. "Were you not wearing those clothes yesterday?"

She shut her mouth quickly and tried to make a run for it. Unfortunately Erik had already grabbed a firm hold onto Christine's tied hair and thin wrist. She cried out in pain but he seemed to be unaffected by her struggles. He pulled her back to his side making her gasp as the back of her head started to sting. Erik gritted his teeth and squeezed her wrist as he pulled it up high above her head. He wanted her to look at him directly in the face. He momentarily released his hand from her hair, but only so that he could hold the back of her head. He forcefully pushed and turned her head until the position of it had satisfied him. His eyes glared into hers. With her free hand Christine tried to pry Erik off her wrist and head. But it was no use, he outmatched her in strength.

"How dare that fool touch you! How dare you _let_ him touch you!" He shoved her face into his and she looked away while he held her head in place with a violent hand. "You are _mine_." He snarled. "When will you see that? You are wearing my ring! You belong to me!"

He took his face away from hers but he kept his grip on her.

"Please! Erik, stop! You are hurting me!" She said helplessly as she tried to break free.

He screamed at her with mad eyes. "You know _nothing _of hurt!"

To her amazement he suddenly released her and she took a couple of steps back to catch her breath. He stood there staring at her as he too caught his breath. She stood, with quite a distance between herself, lightly touching her red wrist and head. Whilst watching her he realised the result of his harsh actions on her. He bowed his head quickly, almost like a child who has just been scolded. His eyes, on the other hand, were desperate to look anywhere but her.

He waited for her to run, but she never did. He frowned and he spoke with a slightly less bitter tone than before. "Why are you not running?"

"What?"

"Why are you not running from t_he Phantom_? Are not you _afraid_?" His head snapped up to look at her.

She rubbed her wrist and looked bravely into his eyes. "I am not afraid." She lied.

"You are lying." He snapped. "I can tell. You are afraid of me, everyone is."

"I am not, Erik!"

He threw his head back in amusement and Christine looked away. "Somehow I cannot believe you, my dear." He smiled wryly. "Would you like a reminder? Would you like to see my face again?" He reached up to his face teasing her meanly.

"No!" She exclaimed.

He brought his hands back down. "Hmm. I thought not." He reached into his pocket and took out an envelope. "Hurry back now, little Christine, and take this with you. Give it to Carlotta."

She quickly snatched the letter from his hand, afraid of any more contact with him. The thought of it sent a shiver to her shaky hand. "You know?" She said in a timid voice. "You know about Carlotta taking my role?"

He nodded and turned away from her.

"How?" She asked before he was out of sight.

He stopped but did not turn round. "I know everything, my dear. The walls speak to me."


	20. Trouble

**Thank you for reading and reviewing! Sorry this chapter is quite short!**

* * *

Carlotta did not take the news well.

"Why you give me this, huh? Stupid girl! You think I am a fool? Ha!" She was shoving the letter into Christine's wincing face. "I know what you are playing it and do not think that it will go unpunished!"

Carlotta, Christine and Richard all stood in the very small confined space of his office while they listened to the Diva's ranting.

"Madame, Madame." Spoke Richard with his hands out in front of her trying to calm her down. "Please tell us what your meaning is."

Carlotta stared at him with a gaping mouth. She was amazed that he didn't know what she meant immediately. She through her glare towards Richard, then at Christine, then to the letter and then back to Richard. "This letter." She waved it about in her hand angrily. "It was obviously written by _her!_" She pointed at Christine. "She could not stand to have me take her place and so she must have written this to get me out of the way!"

Richard laughed at her and Carlotta returned this gesture with a glare. He immediately fell silent under her eyes and then turned to Christine. "I do not think that Mademoiselle Daaé would stoop this low to get rid of you, Madame." He held up his hands in defence. "I do not think that anyone would want to get rid of you." Carlotta smiled at his flattery. "You are the Prima Donna of this company. A star! You are music itself!"

Christine, who had stepped back to observe this attempt of grovelling, looked away in disgust as he said those false words to the over pretentious woman. She listened to his 'compliments' and saw this as the opportunity to leave. She began to back away when Carlotta caught her.

"You! Where you go? Come back here, now!"

Christine obeyed but kept her head down. "I was leaving because I did not want to be in the same room with those who do not speak the truth."

Richard looked between the two ladies and sighed. "Ladies, ladies, please!" He turned to Christine. "Mademoiselle Daaé, might I inquire in how you came across this letter?"

She held one arm shyly. "I, er, well, _he_, gave it to me."

"The Phantom?" Carlotta exclaimed.

"Yes, Madame."

"In person or-?" Started Richard.

"No, not in person." She looked up.

"Ah, so you are his accomplice!" She raised her pointing finger and smiled to herself. She looked pleased that she had figured this out, however unfortunately for her this simply wasn't true.

"No Madame!" She snapped. "I am not his accomplice! All he did say was that I must give this letter to you. That is all."

Carlotta huffed. "Well! That settles matters then." Her sarcasm ran thick in her words. She appeared to be very annoyed now and Christine did her best to stand her ground.

"La Carlotta," Richard began to say. He elongated every vowel he spoke to her. "I am sure that Mademoiselle Daaé has absolutely nothing to do with him. She is simply a messenger at most." He took the letter from her hand and placed it in his coat pocket. "Do not fret, Madame."

Christine sighed and watched the two talking again. Once he had finished reassuring her of her doubts he turned to Christine. "Now Mademoiselle Daaé, as I told you earlier today, there is no point in taking these letters seriously when they are just words on paper."

"But Monsieur-"

"We will do what he says when he takes things into his own hands and does not leave it up to a letter to scare us. I again am sorry, Mademoiselle Daaé, but La Carlotta will be playing the lead in Faust."

Christine glanced behind Richard and briefly caught Carlotta looking very smug. "Monsieur I really must protest!"

"That is my final word on the matter, Mademoiselle Daaé."

He began to escort her out of the office. "But Monsieur! Please listen! You do not know what he is capable of! If he finds out about this he will do something terrible! Believe me!"

"Yes, yes, oh course." He said over and over again. Christine knew he wasn't listening to her but it was still worth trying to tell him.

He was in the middle of shutting his office door when she spoke. "Do not say I did not warn you." She had a feeling that he hadn't heard her but she hoped that he did.

Christine walked off to her dormitory with so many things going through her head: Erik, his threatening eyes, Raoul, the performance, and, what she was thinking about the most, was what disaster Carlotta faced when she steps out onto the stage.


	21. Show time

That night had come. It was the night in which Carlotta would sing Marguerite and all eyes would be on her; including Erik's. This worried Christine intensely as she had no idea what was in store if Carlotta sang. She prayed that he wouldn't do anything rash, but of course he would, he was The Phantom Of The Opera. He did as he pleased. She also knew that anything done would have been for his, or maybe even for her, benefit. She knew he meant well but his actions came across as uncaring and cruel sometimes.

Christine mulled things over in her head as she and the other cast members got ready behind stage. She could hear the audience, the audience who once loved her, chatting away in the auditorium. The orchestra was tuning, the cast members were warming up, the dancers were practising, the managers were up in the high seats and so was Raoul.

Carlotta was prancing around the stage singing with her 'unique' voice. Christine was with Meg who was reassuring her that nothing would happen. Being good friends with her, Christine had naturally told her everything about what happened when she was with Erik. Christine now understood why Meg was so timid to talk about him before. As they talked, a figure watched them from the sidelines. Madame Giry. She wasn't concerning herself with her unskilled ballerinas but instead she was about to make her way up to box five. She watched the two girls and sighed.

Everyone had already taken their seats and so there was no on about in the corridor up there. She glanced around just in case. The only sound came from her walking cane and shoes. She produced a key from her pocket and swiftly opened the doors to box five. She whisked inside and locked it behind her. Madame Giry didn't want the managers to see her there so she hid behind the frill laced curtain.

"Monsieur, are you here?" She asked the box.

"Ah, Giry. I was wondering when we would talk again." The voice came from behind a pillar at one side of the box. There was a secret entrance, a door, in the pillar which led from box five all the way down to underneath the stage. It was covenant for Erik to slip in and out of the Opera this way without being seen. "What do you want?"

"I came to talk to you-"

"Yes, yes, what about Giry? Time is ticking and I do not want to miss my cue."

She raised an eyebrow. "Your cue, Monsieur?"

"All in good time, my dear woman, all in good time."

"I am worried, Erik." She looked at her feet. "I am worried that your feelings for Christine have grown more passionately since the last time we spoke and-"

"Why must love be an issue?"

"Love is not the issue here, monsieur, it is obsession! _Jealousy_! I do not want you to end up hurting this girl. She is a dear friend of Meg's and it would pain us both to see her heart-broken."

The voice sighed. "How dare you suggest that Erik would harm a single hair upon her head!"

Madame Giry remained unconvinced. "Have you, Monsieur?"

There was a short pause. "No."

She touched her face with her ageing hand when she assumed that he was not telling her the truth. "Oh God. That poor child! Why ever did she not tell me about this?"

"Be quiet Giry!" His tone changed to unpleasantness. "I would never abuse her. I may get carried away at some times, that I can admit, but I would never intentionally hurt her! She is my world, Giry, my muse! And if you cannot understand that then there is no point in our discussion continuing."

"Wait, Erik!" She stared at the orchestra below. "What have you got planned?"

He laughed sarcastically. "Why, what ever do you mean?"

She gulped and continued. "What are you planning to do when La Carlotta sings, Monsieur? I know you have something hidden up your sleeve and I would appreciate it if you would tell me beforehand so that I am," She thought for a moment trying to find the right word. "prepared."

"Why should I?" Erik snapped. She waited for him to continue but all she heard was a sinister laugh. "As I have said; all shall be revealed when the time is right."

"But Erik I-"

"Shh, Giry. It has started." She shut her mouth at the sound of his word and the opening notes of the Opera.

Act I commenced and Madame Giry stayed with the unseen man. Every so often Erik would comment on the singing or something like that. She would reply as best she could but being a ballet teacher, she did not know a great deal about the beauty of music, just about the beauty of movement.

"Who is the man playing Méphistophélès? Remind me of his name." The voice asked.

"I think it is Emile Stefano." She said while leaning on her cane for support.

"Ah, he has a superb voice, do you not agree? Very well-shaped and see how he brings character into the melody. Ah, but I am afraid the same cannot be said about our 'Faust'. He belts the song out and yet he does not let it develop and flow. In fact, on the whole, his voice displeases me greatly." He sighed. "I shall have to teach him a lesson."

"Erik, do not!"

"I am teasing, Giry."

The music changed so that it was more uplifting. Christine with the others entered the stage and began dancing to the merry music. Madame Giry glanced to the pillar in which Erik was hiding in and then looked back to the stage. "She is there, isn't she Giry? Christine. Do you want to know how I knew that? The answer is that I know her voice by heart. She sticks out from the crowd like a sore thumb, but in a good way. She is the bright star in my otherwise meaningless dark life."

And then came Carlotta's part. "Urgh." He exclaimed in horror. "Well I guess it must be time to get to work." He scoffed a laugh.

"Erik." She whispered. "Please! Do not go through with this. What has she done wrong?"

He snarled. "What has she done _wrong_? For one thing she has made me go deaf at the sound of her voice, for another thing she has disgraced the name of Opera with her flouncing and over exaggeration-"

"Erik-"

He was building up his agitation which had now fully consumed him. "And what is worse is that she has man handled Christine on more than one occasion and stolen her rightful part. So do not ask me what she has done wrong."

"Erik, tell me what it is you are planning!" She pleaded.

He chuckled and replied. "Look above you."

She did so and at first she wasn't sure about what he meant but then she realised. She flew a hand to her mouth to stop any sound from escaping. She stared above her. "The chandelier! Oh God, Monsieur, do not!"

"I have no choice Giry!" He was shouting at the level in which the people in the neighbouring box could have heard. She looked around her to see if any one had heard him, thankfully they hadn't. "She has ruined Christine's career and-"

"Not this way! You do not have to do it this way, Er-"

"Do _not_ interrupt me again, Giry, is that clear? Now if you _excuse me_-" He spoke through his teeth. "I have business to attend to."

"Erik?" No answer. "Erik? Oh God."


	22. The disaster

**I've been having writers block recently and so I apologise if this chapter isn't up to the right standards that you hoped! And thank you for the reviews and keep reading: )**

* * *

Erik had one thing on his mind and one thing only: Christine. He was doing this for her, it was all for her, whether she would see that or not.

He made his way through the friendly shadows, slipping in and out of the darkness as he went. _One slip up and I would lose her forever. Oh how could I have let her go so easily to the Vicomte instead of keeping her with me where she belonged? I should have seen this coming... _

Madame Giry watched with anticipation both the performance and the chandelier. She began to pace in her confined space letting her cane snap of the ground in time with the music. She had no idea to what to do. She couldn't stop Erik, she didn't know how, and even if she could, she wouldn't dare. No one could stop him when he was like this. She watched as Carlotta belted a rather off-key solo and winced as she knew that she wouldn't be singing for much longer.

He was blackness itself, he blended into the night. No one could find him. Erik wore a midnight black cloak which covered all his body; his face especially. It swished this way and that as he smoothly made his way backstage. He wasn't worried about anyone spotting him. And if they did then, well, let God be with them. _How dare Giry tell me what love is! Jealousy? Ha! Hardly! She does not understand; they _all_ do not understand. Maybe after this act on my part will my managers fully understand the lengths in which their Opera Ghost will go to get his way. . . _

Up in one box, on the opposite side of the theatre to box five; sat Moncharmin and Richard happily watching their production take place. Oh course they had doubts on whether or not the Opera Ghost would show himself tonight or not, however as Richard had pointed out, he had spoken to them only through words on paper. To the managers, he proved no great threat to the company.

In the box next to the managers sat Raoul and Philippe. The two brothers stared down at the stage; not knowing what surprise lay in store. Philippe watched on the edge of his seat enjoying every moment of the glorious music. That cannot be said for Raoul though, who obviously had much better things to do such as looking into the crowd in boredom. It was true; the opera did bore him but it was Christine that he had come to see tonight and not Carlotta.

Christine watched in the wings, also pacing, and stared nervously at Carlotta every so often. She held her hands in each other and listened to every note of the opera. It was like each note was piercing her soul and she knew that the big 'finale' was approaching. She didn't want to be apart of this, she never did. It was her fault that all this had started. It was she that sparked her teacher's attention and rage. It was her love that he obtained and craved for. And now to have Raoul in the picture; _Oh God, _she thought_, please, please do not do anything Erik. Please, for me, do not ruin this company! _

Christine stopped pacing at the sudden change in music. She held herself in her arms, imagining replacing her arms for Raoul's, and gulped. All around her were people and music, never still and always full of life. There was only one problem. She could feel a pair of eyes watching over stepped onto the rickety bridge overlooking the whole stage and began to walk slowly to the other side. He peered down in disinterest at the actors on the stage. As he walked he eyed the chandelier with great expectation. Erik lowered his head to make him self even more inconspicuous. He also kept an observant eye on Christine.

He allowed his emotions to get the better of him as he submerged himself into the music. He let his feelings out through the power of the music as if it were telling his story. Erik raised a hand and moved it around in the air to the compelling melody. All the while he kept his eyes on Christine as he drew ever closer to the chandelier ropes. _She will pay, my Christine. Do not worry your pretty little head off. Erik will make her pay…_

Carlotta's voice was too much for anyone, let alone Erik, to handle. He stormed off the small bridge and gritted his teeth. He spied Christine through the curtain and smirked at her. His eyes were filled with destruction. Erik bent down and slyly pulled out a small but sharp knife. He flipped it around in his gloved hand and laughed.

Christine heard him and spun around afraid of what was just about to happen. She looked above her as she walked back against the wing wall, but no matter how hard she looked, she couldn't see anyone.

Erik, with a devious grin spreading across his deformed face, started to cut the rope. It took a lot of effort on his part to cut it; the rope was very thick and he only had a small knife. He breathed heavily through his nostrils and concentrated on channelling his hatred for Carlotta on his cutting. He could see the rope beginning to become loose and the chandelier begin to sway.

The sound of small crystal beads colliding with each other sounded from above. A few audience members, including Raoul, glanced above them to see the chandelier swinging freely. He stood up and pulled his brother with him.

"What the devil do you think you are doing, Raoul?" Asked Philippe.

"Philippe, look." He pointed and Philippe gasped at the sight.

"I must get Christine!"

And without another word he ran out of the box and made his way to backstage as fast as he could. Philippe was left looking after his brother and then looking back at the chandelier. He rested his hands on the ledge and edged closer.

A few orchestra players noticed this disturbance too and stopped playing. The conductor noticed this and tried to get them to start again. When he could not he looked round at what they were staring at. Carlotta, with a confused and quite annoyed expression on her face, continued singing without the slightest idea of what was going on.

Erik laughed to himself again, enjoying the moments before that satisfaction he was about to bring to himself. He cut faster and laughed more and more as he was doing so. The chandelier swung even more and nearly all the audience were staring at it now. There were whispers and even a few alarmed voices coming from the crowd as they watched.

Carlotta saw that no one was paying attention to her so she marched to the edge of the stage and sung her heart out. She over exaggerated every word. Erik tried to cover his ears from the monstrosity of sound that she was producing. He wanted her to stop. He wanted her dead. He wanted to be feared.

Erik was only a few threads away from bringing down the chandelier and his gaze rested upon the audience. He grinned even wider. Carlotta kept singing, even without the orchestra. You would have thought that she would have noticed what was going on, but you thought wrong.

"Behold!" Erik boomed from behind the curtain. A few people screamed and gasped at his menacing voice. The managers stood up and everyone was trying to see where the voice had come from. "She is singing to bring down the chandelier!" He really shouted at the top of his lungs so that every one of the insignificant beings could hear him.

His laugh echoed through the halls and the audience started to frantically push past each other trying to escape. Screams were heard and Erik breathed in their fear like oxygen. And finally it happened. The rope snapped and released the chandelier down onto the auditorium. "Go!" He elongated the 'o' making the word terrifying to be heard.

The screams of women and men were louder than ever and Erik jumped up onto the high platform to get a better look. He watched with cruel eyes as the chandelier crashed onto the seats below.

Every single person fled from the sight and sound of the Opera Ghost. Erik admired his work before turning his gaze to the stage. He saw that Christine was still there and he smiled at her. She could see him. She was looking straight at him in horror and betrayal. She began to shake her head and she raised a hand to her chest. Erik watched over her from above and grinned.

"Christine!"

She blinked and looked around.

"Christine!"

"Oh Raoul!" She didn't let herself touch him, not with Erik watching. Instead she took a look at Erik and then pulled Raoul out of there. She ran and ran with Raoul behind her trying to see what was wrong.

Erik eyed them as they left hand in hand. He grabbed the sides of the railing and spat in their direction. He hunched his shoulders and let out a cry of anger. He snapped his body round to look at his work and saw quite a sight. The chandelier lay broken and shattered on the floor looking quite a state. To his pleasure he saw a few people trapped underneath it, some scraping around them desperate to get out, while some others lay motionless around it. Erik smiled and with a swish of his cloak walked away basking in, not only his satisfaction, but also his hatred for Raoul.


	23. Decisions

Moncharmin and Richard paced in unison and in opposite directions from each other. Each time they passed each other they would exchange a small glance. This went on for about five minutes until Moncharmin stopped and went to sit in his chair.

"What are we going to do, Richard?" He wiped the sweat away from his forehead and thought about the events of tonight. "Our chandelier is broken, we will have to spend a fortune fixing it. But where is that money going to come from? We cannot afford to have the company perform another Opera do soon after this. And, oh, think of the publicity. In any other circumstance I would be very pleased to know that we are bringing the Opera to the public's eye. But never had I imagined the publicity we would get from _this_. And who do we have to thank for tonight's little shenanigan? Our Ghost, _that's_ who, Richard."

Richard sighed and sat behind his desk. He pressed his fingers on his temples and swung back and forth in his chair. "I do not know what we are to do, Moncharmin. All I know is that we need to get the attention away from the accident and onto something else."

"But, Richard, lives were lost tonight!"

"I am very aware of that."

Moncharmin leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "So, what do you think we should have happen?"

Richard stood up and thought for a moment. "Ah, I know!"

"Would you care to share your idea, Richard?"

He looked at him with a proud look upon his face. "After the hype of this old business has gone down, we shall hold un bal masqué to honour our friends and audience and to those who have died."

"Hmm, I am not sure about that Richard."

"Think it over, Moncharmin! The bad publicity will be gone and the Opera Ghost will be forgotten!"

He stood up expressing a concerned look. "Well, they will forget him for at least that night anyway." He paused. "Ok, fine, Richard. We will hold un bal masqué."

* * *

"Christine, stop!" Raoul said and had been saying for the last ten minutes. They had escaped the crowd but Christine felt more at risk in the open. She couldn't keep still for more than ten seconds. When Raoul thought that she had finally chosen a spot to rest she would run off again with shock written all over her face.

She held the hem of her costume in her shaking hands and twirled around to stare at him in the eye. "What?"

"Why are we running so much, Christine? We are far away from the stage now."

Raoul walked forward and cupped her head in his hands. He leaned down to rest his forehead on hers and they both closed their eyes. "You do not understand, Raoul. He will never leave me. He will always be there."

"My God, Christine are you really letting this ghost get to your head? He is just a man, nothing more, and yet you keep sitting here wining about it, when we should be taking action!"

She pulled away from him. "No, Raoul. Please do not take action, I owe him that much."

He frowned. "And why not?"

"Because I do not want him to get hurt."

Raoul stepped back puzzled by Christine's statement. "Why? What is he to you? _Nothing_, that is what. Now either we take matters into our own hands or we allow this man to stalk you to your grave."

Christine looked down and said through her teeth. "I just said, Raoul, that you do not understand him! You do not know him."

"And you do?" He laughed.

"He is my teacher, Raoul." Christine blurted out. She immediately covered her mouth to stop herself from saying anything else and ran.

"He is your _what_? Christine, wait!" He tugged on her hand before she could get too far which made her fall back into his embrace.

"Raoul, I should not have said anything about him! Oh swear to me Raoul that you will not tell anyone. I am so afraid of what he would do if he found out. That is why I do not want to stop. I need to get out of here."

Raoul was furious. This Opera Ghost was her teacher? He scoffed at that and told her that he didn't believe her. He could see that, excluding the fact about how young she was, she really was scared for her life. And she was only reacting how any other young person would do if it were them. She wanted to get away from her fear and Raoul saw how much that meant to her.

"OK, Christine. If it does mean that much to you, I will take you away from here."

"Do you mean it?" She stared at him with hopeful eyes.

"Yes, of course I mean it! I will not look at you when you are like this, I want you to be happy. I promise that I will take you away from here and I shall start tonight!" She raised an eyebrow and Raoul smiled that perfect smile at her. "May I escort you to a glorious Paris winter dinner in the finest restaurant?"

She smiled back at him and nodded. "I would like that very much, Raoul!"

"Excellent!" He held out his arm for her to take. "Shall we go?"

Christine was about to take his arm when she pulled back and looked down at what she was wearing. "I cannot go out in my costume, Raoul! People would stare! I will have to change first."

He laughed at her and embraced her tightly. "Very well."

The two young lovers laughed in each others' arms. Just before Christine walked off to change, signaling Raoul to come with her, she turned to him. Her face seemed serious. "Thank you Raoul."


	24. Deception

"Once again, thank you so much, Raoul." She stepped out of his carriage taking his hand in hers. "You are so good to me." She drew him closer to her to kiss him softly.

Christine now had on a dark blue dress, which matched the night sky, laced with small delicate white frills. Raoul was wearing what he wore in the theatre given he didn't have the time to change. She thought he looked very handsome right now and Raoul thought that Christine looked beautiful, as always.

When she pulled away it was only to giggle. She was so happy when she was with Raoul, It as if all her problems melted away at the sight of him. Christine was not going to let Erik control her mind and thoughts and so she decided to make the best of these few precious moments with Raoul, tonight being one of them.

They walked arm in arm along the street and Christine started to wonder where he was taking her. She gazed around her as Paris started to reveal its romantic night atmosphere. The streetlights burned brightly on the side of the pavement shining down on the young duo's faces. As the two walked she noticed that there were hardly any people around. But as her eyes were searching for any other signs of life, something happened to catch her eye. The moon. It was full and high in the sky. It shone down making the water on the bank beside them glisten like tiny little diamonds.

"Raoul?"

"Hmm."

She looked up at him. "Where are we going?"

He looked at her briefly and turned away with a beam on his face. She raised an eyebrow at him. "It is a surprise."

She studied him for a moment and then giggled. "Raoul?"

"Yes."

"You have absolutely no idea where we are going, do you?"

"What?" He joked while seeming offended. "Do you honestly think I would improvise something like this and expect to take you along with me…" He stared at her and couldn't keep a straight face. "Ok, fine, Christine. You launched this request on me so suddenly, I did not have time to plan ahead. There, does that make you happy?"

She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder feeling completely content. "I am happy that I am here with you." They both found their selves laughing. "Oh really Raoul! Sometimes I think I am more mature thanyou!" She grinned at him.

Christine breathed in his scent and continued to walk side by side together, the way it should have been. After about ten minutes, Raoul came to a stop. Christine, who was in a small daze, blinked a few times and saw where they were. They had stopped outside a quaint little restaurant.

"Shall we?" Asked Raoul.

She nodded and allowed her to escort her inside. To Christine's surprise; the restaurant was quite busy. It looked very upper class and she immediately felt unwelcome there. She walked shyly behind Raoul as he went to go get some seats. The usher, on seeing Christine, gasped and let his mouth hang open. Christine looked away from him and slowly stepped in such a way that Raoul was shielding her. She watched the other customers as Raoul talked to the usher. Christine realised that this wasn't anything like what she was used to seeing or hearing about.

The parties and get togethers that she had, never actually been invited to but, heard about were nothing compared to this. In here everyone was so formal and elegant. She frowned down at her dress thinking that she could have worn something a little more appropriate if she had known where she was going.

"Right this way, Madame and Monsieur." Spoke the usher.

He led the two to a table near the back of the restaurant and gestured for them to sit down. Raoul, being a perfect gentleman, brought her chair back for her. She smiled at him as he took his place opposite her.

"Welcome to Gastronomie, Madame and Monsieur. My name is Simon. I will be your waiter for this evening." He handed them both a menu. Christine shifted slightly in her seat when she noticed the waiter's eyes linger on her for a second longer than needed. "Let me know when you have ordered."

As soon as Simon had walked away, Christine leaned over the table with menu in hand and whispered, "Raoul, I do not feel at all comfortable here."

He frowned but did not look up from his menu. "What ever do you mean, darling?"

She glanced around before answering. "I mean, Raoul, that the waiter was staring at me and, well, I think that I am not for the upper class."

Raoul didn't turn his head but his eyes locked with hers. "Christine, there is nothing to worry about. You do fit in here."

She scoffed and looked at the choices. "You really think that I belong here with the aristocrats and the wealthy?"

"Yes."

She rolled her eyes at him and smiled. He placed the menu down after deciding what he was going to order and watched Christine. She peered at him every so often and tried to contain a smile. "Can I help you, Raoul?"

"No." He said smiling.

Christine had decided what she was having and Raoul called for the waiter. Well, he called for the waiter a few times; he seemed to be hard of hearing.

She glanced around her and froze when she noticed that about five of six pairs of eyes were on her. She smiled nervously at them and then turned away to look at her lap.

"What is the matter, Christine?"

"Why is everyone suddenly so interested in me tonight, Raoul?"

He looked around and laughed. "Christine, you may be young but you do act your age don't you? No matter how hard you try, your innocence always manages to seek through." She frowned and was about to say something when Raoul continued. "What I mean is that you are famous Christine Daaé! You may not have noticed it but you did receive a lot of well deserved praise on your debut night. Christine, you are a star!"

Christine felt herself blush and she looked down as Simon appeared at their table. "Have you decided what you would like?"

Raoul looked at him. "Yes, I will have the finest, most expensive, thing on offer."

He nodded and couldn't wait to turn to Christine. "And for you, Madame?"

Christine grimaced slightly at being called 'Madame'. "It's Mademoiselle, not Madame, and I would like-"

"She will have the same, my good man." Raoul interrupted.

He turned to leave but Raoul called him back. "Oh waiter! Waiter?" Simon didn't hear him at first and stopped looking around for a minute. "Waiter!"

Simon turned to see a stern face on Raoul. "Could you please bring us a bottle of your finest wine?"

He nodded and walked away. Raoul turned back to the table and sighed heavily quite annoyed at Simon for not hearing him. Christine shook her head at him and stared at him. Raoul mistook Simon's deafness for arrogance. This was when Raoul had started to annoy Christine.

"Raoul, it is not his fault. You do not have to be so-"

"What?" He snapped.

She blinked a few times in shock. "Raoul, calm down. You are over reacting."

He stared into her eyes and slowly nodded. "You are right." He chuckled. "You are always right, are you not?"

She gave him a half-smile which vanished as quickly as it came. "What shall we talk about?"

"What ever you like." He answered. However after a minute of silence with the two not being able to conjure up a conversation opener, Raoul spoke. "My brother and I have decided to fund the Palais Garnier for a further three years."

"Oh Raoul, that is so generous."

He shrugged his shoulders. "It was the least we could do." He leaned forward to take her hands in his. "I hope that Carlotta will be thankful enough to not sing for at least one season."

She giggled. "Have you met her, Raoul?"

"No. And I pray to God that I never will."

Christine looked at the table. "Hmm. She is a beastly woman, is she not?"

"My word Christine." He seemed positively shocked. "I did not know you had it in you to say that about her, let alone anyone!"

She laughed. The two let go of each other's hands as the food arrived. Christine peered down at the delicious sight, though she was annoyed that Raoul had ordered for her. "Raoul, this looks both delicious ... and expensive."

He shrugged his shoulders and Christine immediately dug in. They spoke while they ate and drank.

"I am curious, is your brother married?" Asked Christine.

He raised an eyebrow at her and spoke with a melodramatic tone. "Oh I am heartbroken!" He spoke with a smile. "You wish to leave me for my elder brother?"

She shook her head vigorously ignoring his melodramatic-ness. "No, Raoul. I was simply curious."

"No." He said after a moment.

"Hmm?"

"No, he is not married."

"May I ask why not?"

He nodded. "I think it is because he has not found the perfect woman." He leaned forward resting his head in his hands. "And what of you, Christine Daaé, do you intend to marry one day?"

She blushed. "Well yes, naturally."

"And do you think that you have found that ideal match?"

This question actually caught her by surprise. She was shocked when she had to think about it. She wanted to marry Raoul, of course, yet strangely enough images of Erik kept popping up in her mind. She could see herself in white standing opposite Raoul, she was not afraid that she had already thought about that. Even though they had only been together a few weeks, Christine's love for him had grown and grown. Yet her feelings toward Erik have grown as well. She cared for Erik? Yes, but not in the same way as she did for Raoul. She felt pity for Erik more than anything. She was so sure that it was pity that she felt and nothing more, but quite frankly any other stronger emotional tie to Erik seemed frightening to her.

"Christine?" Asked Raoul who was staring at her.

Christine frowned at herself for pausing. "I am sorry, Raoul. I must have blanked out for a moment there."

He leaned back on his chair and ran a hand over his sleeked hair. "Oh." He did not meet her eyes. "You were thinking about him, weren't you?"

Christine stared wide-eyed at Raoul. "What?"

"Your _teacher_, Christine. Do not act this way, I can tell when you are thinking of him. You have done that at least four times tonight." He sighed and stared into his empty wine glass. "I did not want to intrude on your thoughts." His tone was bitter. "But now thinking about it, you have made that face quite a lot in the previous week." He laughed. "How foolish of me to think that you were thinking of me!"

"Raoul, I have no idea what you are talking about and frankly the reason I wanted you to take me out tonight was to get _away_ from him and-"

"Christine, look," he said flatly, "I am pleased that have been blessed with an incredible voice and it would appear that this man is responsible for that. But I cannot help thinking that you feel something for him, something that you are afraid to show."

Christine was frozen to her spot. "Raoul, I-"

"Christine, do not deny it. You know it is true." _Could Raoul be jealous … over Erik?_ thought Christine. "He is your teacher, Christine. He has taught you everything you know and I am sure that he is very proud. Has he courted you, Christine?"

She said nothing.

He laughed. "I am sorry to talk to you about this but the truth has to come out. Has he, Christine? Has he courted you?" She said nothing. "I thought so." He leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tone. "He is a murderer, Christine-"

"Now that is bending the truth, Raoul..."

Raoul continued as if unaware that Christine had even opened her mouth. "A man like that cannot be left alive and to roam around the Opera walls as he pleases!"

"If you speak one more word against him I will-"

"You will what?"

Christine gritted her teeth and wiped her mouth with the napkin. She stood up and stormed out of the restaurant as non angrily as she could. Raoul followed her. She stepped out into the cold night and went to stand by the edge of the water.

"Christine!" He looked at her straight in the eyes. "I am so sorry Christine. I have upset you, darling and I am sorry."

She stared off into the opposite direction of him and crossed her arms. She then tried to speak in her most sarcastic tone she was capable of. "I am very glad to hear that you know that, Raoul."

"I did not mean it, you know that."

"I know." She whispered. "It is just that you are right. I do care for him." Raoul began to speak but she silenced him with a brief kiss. "It is pity, Raoul. I feel pity for him-" a_nd more, _"-and I cannot help but go to him. I feel the urge to care for him and to look after him and-"

"I understand."

She smiled softly and shook her head. "No, no you do not, Raoul. And neither do I." She turned to him and wrapped her arms around him. He did the same. She found herself laughing.

"What is so funny, Christine?"

"We just had out first fight." He smiled and shut his eyes. "I am sorry for over reacting."

"As am I."

"Thank you, Raoul."

He looked her in the eye and then pulled her into a deep meaningful kiss that she just melted into.


	25. le bal masqué

**Again I have been having writers block and so I'm struggling to write a whole sentence at the moment! But I'll try to concentrate hard enough to post another chapter later on. Thank you for the feedback and keep reading: )**

* * *

It took a little under three months for the hype of the chandelier business to quiet down. The managers took no time at all to organise and advertise the masked ball after that. There was some controversy spoken by the press over why they were holding it so soon after the accident. Naturally the managers said that they were holding the ball so that they can forget about all that and move on. They sent out a personal apology to the families that were involved in the accident and to the families of those who were injured. They hoped that this incident would not interfere in the Opera season and so did what they could to mend the situation.

During those three months there were no more special appearances by Erik in the theatre or to Christine; yet on more than one occasion she had received a few notes from him. Christine swore to herself that she would not speak of this to Raoul. She didn't want him to get more involved than he already was. Christine prayed that these peaceful weeks with Raoul would carry on for the rest of their lives. But she knew that she would be hoping for too much.

Christine and Raoul's relationship bloomed and after the second month they were closer than ever. Raoul even talked about marriage to her a few times, though Christine changed the subject every time it was mentioned. This would then lead to a fight between the two. Christine was sure of her feelings yet having Erik out of the picture for a while really made her question herself.

Christine fiddled with her dress and Raoul's gloved hand steadied her. She looked up to him and smiled. "Christine, dear, you look fine."

She laughed and squeezed his hand in hers. "Thank you Raoul."

They were on their way to the masked ball, which Raoul had finally convinced her to go to. She was worried though that Erik might make an appearance but she wasn't going to let this get to her. As the two sat quietly in Raoul's carriage, she recalled the conversation that they had;

_"Christine, listen to me please. I know you do not want to go. I do not want to go, but I think it would be good for us if we went out more. Don't you agree?"_

_She sighed and shook her head. "Raoul no-"_

_Raoul grabbed her hands as he looked into her eyes. "Darling, please for me?"_

_She waited for a moment before replying. "I would go if it were any other night at any other venue, but Raoul, it is a masked ball. He might-"_

_"Christine! We have not seen of heard from him in well over three months! Good riddance, is what I say! So let us enjoy ourselves there."_

_She sighed into his embrace. "Oh Raoul. It scares me just thinking of it. But you are right-" she looked up at him and lied, "-we haven't heard from him in a long time and so I guess he will not be there-"_

_"So?"_

_"And so I will go."_

_He beamed down at her. "Excellent!"_

_She smiled faintly at him as he hugged her before leaving her. She watched him walk away and she just hoped that her lie was true. She hoped that Erik would not attend the ball._

Christine snapped back to her surroundings as the carriage jerked around after hitting a bump in the road. She sighed and decided that she was going to enjoy herself tonight. No matter what.

Her attention turned towards Raoul and she gazed at his costume. Well, his suit anyway. Raoul was never the one for costume parties but he at least he was trying to make an effort. He wore a very smart, too smart for the occasion, black suit with a black bow tie. He had his hair sleeked back as normal even though Christine tried to persuade him to be more adventurous with it. His mask was also black and plain. It only covered the top portion of his face and he had blacked the space between his eyes and the mask so his eyes stood out more. Christine was quite the opposite to Raoul. She wore a pink elegant gown with little roses at the hem. She wore white gloves with white embroidery on them. Her long hair was twirled into a tight bun but she allowed a few stands to fall loose. Her mask was a light pink with a gold edge. The eye holes were surrounded by a deeper pink which made her eyes stand out without having to apply makeup around them.

As the carriage was driven down the road towards the Opera House, Raoul began to tap his fingers. Christine frowned at him. "What is it, Raoul?"

"It is this damn costume I am wearing."

"What about it?"

"Look at me, Christine! I look silly and I look like I am attending a funeral."

She sighed. "Raoul, you should not say things like that. Especially when the reason Moncharmin and Richard are holding this ball is because of the accident. There is no need to be insensitive about it."

"You are right, I am sorry Christine. But you can tell me the truth; I do look ridiculous, do I not?"

He flashed her a grin and Christine giggled. "No, no, you do not, Raoul. In fact you look rather handsome."

When they arrived and Raoul's carriage came to a halt, he got out while extending a hand for Christine to take. She smiled at him when he took her hand in his and led her into the great Palais Garnier. They were immediately struck with happy dancing couples and laughter and music, oh glorious music. The two smiled as they walked into the splendour of the room.

There were people and masks everywhere she looked. Raoul pulled her by the hand to the middle of the floor and began to dance with her. They grinned at each other as she let Raoul twirl her around the room.

Her mind was entirely focused on Raoul and the music guiding them. Although all that was in Raoul's mind at that particular point was him trying to remember the steps and beats to the dance. He wore a very fixed expression on his face as he was trying to count and Christine raised an eyebrow at him. She even saw his lips move and she could hear him murmuring the beats. She just laughed at him.

Four dances and an hour later they stopped to talk in one corner of the room. Christine was smiling away wanting to dance to whole night, unlike Raoul who was bent over trying to catch his breath. She raised an eye brow at him and then stared out into the room.

"Can we not dance again, Raoul?" She said eagerly.

"No, not until I have caught my breath." He said between panting.

"Oh, Raoul!" She laughed. "Would you like me to fetch you some wine?"

"Oh, would you?" He smiled at her and she laughed.

Christine took a quick glance at him before walking away to a small table occupied at the other side of the room. As she stopped at the table and was about to scoop up some wine from the bowl she saw two men coming towards her. She placed Raoul's glass down and smiled nervously at them. The only problem with a masked ball was that you had no idea who these people were by looking at them for their masks hid their identity.

"Good evening, Mademoiselle Daaé!" Spoke the first man who turned out to be Richard.

"How are you, Mademoiselle Daaé?" Spoke the second man, who naturally was Moncharmin.

She smiled at the two men. "Good evening."

"I hope you are enjoying our little get together."

"Oh yes, very much so." She said while glancing at the table.

"We saw you dancing with a certain someone all night, Mademoiselle Daaé. Are we expecting wedding bells anytime soon?" Boldly asked Richard.

Christine blushed and Moncharmin laughed. "Do excuse my college, he is a little under the table, if you know what I mean, Mademoiselle Daaé."

She nodded and smiled sweetly at them. "It's fine, Monsieur."

He nodded and said, "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening, Mademoiselle Daaé. I know we will! Oh and stay away from Carlotta, she is very happy at the moment and I do not think she would want you annoying her. A happy Carlotta is better than an angry Carlotta! Good evening, Mademoiselle Daaé."

The two men walked away and Christine laughed suspecting that both were a little tipsy. She turned back to the table and picked up the glass again. Something bright caught her eye though and she immediately stopped in her tracks. She had her head down but her eyes were looking in front of her at something she had not noticed was there. It was a figure dressed in a vibrant terrifying red costume. She slowly raised her head and straightened her body to look at him properly. Her eyes followed up his body. First at his legs which had bold black stripes across them. Then to his middle and arms which were, again, covered in red. She also noticed that this man wore a light red cape which he held in his hand seeing that it was too long to leave. And then her eyes came to his face. He had on a faded white mask which covered the whole of his face. The mask had a lot of black shading on it which made it look like a skeleton. He also wore a huge red hat with feathers poking out from one side.

Christine stared at the man as he bowed to her. She curtsied back and gasped as he locked eyes with her. Christine noticed that he was staring at her and she began to back away. The figure only stared at her as she hurried back to Raoul.

"Christine, where is my drink?" Asked Raoul who had his breathing in control now.

She blinked and looked down to see that she wasn't holding anything. "Oh, I am sorry, Raoul! I er-"

"Do not worry, Christine. I just needed a moment to catch my breath." He looked at her curiously. "Are you feeling OK, darling?"

"Hmm? Oh. Yes, I am fine." She looked down.

"Would you like to dance again?" He said extending a hand.

Christine smiled and shook her head. "No, Raoul. You rest for now." She sighed and turned her head back towards the centre of the room. She scanned for the mysterious figure but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Mademoiselle Daaé?" A voice sounded up from next to her. Moncharmin.

"Yes, Monsieur?"

"Would you care to dance with me?" He said hopefully.

Christine glanced at Raoul who was laughing. He nodded and urged her forward. She took Moncharmin's hand as he led her through the dancers and to the middle of the room. Moncharmin then proceeded to dance quite out of beat to the otherwise slow music and Christine looked embarrassingly around her. A few eyes were staring at him and laughing at his drunkenness. She smiled and blinked as she was roughly twirled around until he suddenly stopped for a hand was on his shoulder. Christine let her mouth hang open.

"Would you mind if I took it from here, Monsieur?"

_Oh God ... I would know that voice anywhere! _Christine thought.

Moncharmin shook his head and began to dance with himself away from them. Christine did not remove her eyes from the figure as he slowly placed a hand on her waist and took her hand gently. She swayed in time with the music as she finally placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Who else would come dressed as death?" She stared at him. "Erik."

"Did I frighten you, Christine?"

"No."

But that was a lie. She was frightened now for he had pulled her body right up against his as they slow danced. She let out a small protest but Erik ignored it. "So Christine; have you missed me, my dear?" She looked away from him. "Christine, look at me." He murmured and she could not help but obey.

"What?" She snapped.

He chuckled. "Ah, how I have missed that little spark in you. But I see that you have decided to waste it on your _friend_ over there." He growled the last few words.

"Erik." She whispered. "Why can you not leave me be? Why can you not let me have my freedom?"

He stared at her and then brought his head very close to hers so that he could whisper in her ear. Christine blushed at being this close to him willingly. "Because, my little Christine, you are _my_ freedom. You are the one to save me."

He pulled his head back and looked at her. She stared at him puzzled.

"Excuse me, Monsieur." Raoul.

Christine turned in his direction and in doing so Erik released her. "Raoul." She said quietly.

Raoul frowned and looked between the two. He then slid his arm protectively around Christine who winced as she watched Erik watch him. She let his words sink into her. _'You are the one to save me'_, she frowned trying to think about what he meant by this. Raoul turned away from Erik and walked her to the staircase.

Christine turned to Raoul and spoke in a very tiny voice. "That was him." Raoul froze and stared at Christine. Before he could say anything she shook her head. "Do not do anything, Raoul. I do not want either of you to get hurt." She pulled him by the hand up the stairs not daring to look back to see whether or not Erik was watching them. No doubt he was.

"Where are we going, Christine?"

"Up. I need some air."


	26. The truth

Christine shoved the door leading out onto the roof wide open and was immediately met by the coldness in the winter air. She gasped but ignored it as she started to pace worryingly. Raoul watched her, more concerned about her than ever.

"Christine." He spoke slowly walking towards her. "Christine, what on Earth has gotten into you all of a sudden?"

She started to tremble and started to fidget with her hands. "Raoul, he is down there." Her voice came out as a bare whisper.

"I know."

Christine snapped her head towards Raoul. "He is here, Raoul! It scares me. He will not ever leave me." She continued to pace and as she continued talking she was more muttering to herself than anything. "He will ... he will not leave me. I know." She shook her head. "Why did I agree to come here tonight? Especially when it was a masked ball ... Oh God!" While this was going on Raoul stood staring at his beloved and could hardly watch when she was in this state. "'You are the one to save me', what could he have meant by that? ... Erik, you are a mystery. Oh God; if he ever is alone with me again then he will take me down there ... to his world of unending light." Christine suddenly threw herself into Raoul's arms. "To his world of unending light, Raoul!"

Raoul automatically embraced Christine and cradled her in his arms. "What are you talking about, Christine?"

"During my rest period ... that is where I was, Raoul. With him. Down below in the catacombs."

Raoul stiffened his posture and looked out over Christine's shoulder. "You were with him?" Christine nodded against his grip. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, Raoul, he would never-"

"Are you sure?" He snapped.

Christine pulled back to look him at him. "Yes, Raoul."

He narrowed his eyes at the darkness. "Good. Christine, if he had hurt you then I would hurt him back." He held her by the shoulders quite firmly. "Christine, if anything had happened to you and if anything should happen to you in the future I will not think about it a second more and-"

"What?"

"I will kill him, Christine. I swear to God I will kill him if he lays one of his lifeless fingers on you again."

"No, Raoul, please." Christine covered her hands over his and held them tight.

Raoul looked distraught. "What?" He said monotonously. "Christine, you cannot be serious!"

She took one look at him and shoved him away. "I am, Raoul."

Raoul blinked and ran a hand through his hair making a few strands fall over his black mask. He laughed to himself and Christine held herself as she winced. "I have said to you before that this man, if you could even call him a man, does not deserve to live. This _ghost_, this _apparition _is nothing but flesh, just like you and me. If he is a man then he can feel pain. If he can feel pain then I will make him bleed-"

"Raoul no!" Christine flew her hand to her mouth.

"Do not do this to yourself, Christine. I will not let this fiend torment you any longer!"

Christine couldn't look at him. "Oh Raoul." She felt the wetness of her tears drip down her cold masked cheeks. "Don't! Take me away instead, Raoul, let us leave this place. Just _please _do not harm him!"

"We have been through this, Christine!" He clenched his hands. "I am sick and tired of your worrying and whining. Talking does nothing-"

"No!" She yelled extending her arms out as if pleading with him.

"It is time to take action. I do not want this man to live knowing that he has caused you and others pain."

She shook her head. "He has not!" Christine was sure that whatever she said wasn't going to be heard by him; but there was always a chance he might.

"Christine." He gritted his teeth and then realised just how angry he was. Raoul shut his eyes and rubbed his temples. "I am sorry but this is my final word on the matter."

She said nothing but let out her cries. Raoul immediately went to her but she pushed him away not wanting him to touch her. He huffed. "What could he have possibly done to make you feel like this for him?"

Christine stared into Raoul's intense eyes and was about to answer when he turned away from her. She watched confused as he made his way to the door they came through. "Where … where are you going, Raoul?" She spoke between sobs.

He kept her back to her when he finally did speak with a bitter tone to his voice. "I need a drink."

"Do not leave me, Raoul ... do not leave me alone..." It was too late. Raoul had already hurried down the steps disappearing from her view.

Christine stood there alone suddenly realising how vulnerable she had become. She looked down at herself in disgust and went to the edge of the building. The whole of Paris could have been seen from this roof top. The whole city was lit up brilliantly and if the lights weren't blurred enough, Christine's tears made it so. She rested her elbows on the roof top barrier and held her droopy head in her gloved hands. Christine had become weak and reduced to waiting for the frightening return of her masked teacher; much like a poor animal awaiting torture.. She didn't want this. She never wanted this.

A sudden chill raced down her spine and she could have sworn she felt something brush against her arm. She slowly looked around but couldn't see anything. _That does not mean he isn't here, Christine! _She told herself.

Christine glanced anxiously around her but still couldn't see anything ... until she rested her eyes on the barrier. Balancing perfectly on the surface was a single red rose. She picked up the rose and after a moment of gazing at it she spun round fiercely.

There stood Erik, dressed fully in his Red Death costume a few metres from her. Christine gripped the barrier for much-needed support and hung her mouth open. _Had he heard our discussion? _

"What do you want, Erik?" Christine said bravely trying to hide the distress in her voice.

Erik eyed her and pursed his lips under his mask.. "Are you feeling alright, my dear?" You seemed quite upset a moment ago." He avoided her gaze and fiddled with his cufflinks of his shirt. "Although I cannot see why you would be over Erik. I cannot see why _anyone _would be..."

_God …_"Erik." She coughed and composed herself. "Yes, I am feeling well."

"Ah, good." He looked up and slowly made his way towards her. "I do not want to ask how the boy is feeling. I do not wish to know. All I can presume from what just happened is that he is off becoming drunk. I pity you having to deal with him, let alone a drunk reckless version of him. You look quite shaken, my dear."

Christine began towards him also. "Oh Erik, I did not want you to hear our conversation. I'm so sorry."

He chuckled lightly which Christine strangely felt scared by. "Whatever for, my dear Christine?" He put all his light-hearted emotions away and replaced them with seriousness. "I am not sorry for my sudden presence tonight; I needed to know how my Opera House was doing and I needed to see you." They were now facing each other's masked faces. He spoke with more confidence and assertiveness. "You know better than to drag your lover into this ordeal, Christine. If he is going to meddle then I am going to meddle back, I do hope you realise this." She silently nodded. "I will not be sorry when he goes too far and I will have to make him a permanent addition to my lake-" she started but he held a hand up to stop her, "-I will not deny what he said about me was not true. In fact, every word of it was true-"

"Oh no! It was not!"

"It is nice of you to think that, my dear, but you need to face the truth which is staring at you in the face."

"Erik...

"Christine, I am curious."

"What?"

"What _is_ it about me that makes you feel anything for me?" Erik began to reach out to touch her bare neck but stopped himself. He placed his hand back to his side. "I know he was teasing but still ... humour me." His voice seemed sad.

Christine sighed and thought for a minute. "It is your heart. There is still some good and purity in it, even if you do not think that yourself. But it is clouded by your cruel soul."

"Good? Purity? They are not words that one would use to describe me."

"No, Erik it is true." She brushed her fingertips against his but then as he looked down she took her hand away from his.

Erik held her gaze for what seemed like a very long time. Christine tried to see through his disguise and into the man who she knew he was. However heard she tried, it never worked. His eyes were a mystery and were always misty and filled with mixed emotions. Mostly anger and betrayal. She really did believe that there was still good in him, maybe even love…

He nodded and then swiftly turned on his heels to leave her. Christine reached put after him. "Erik!" She called after him. He stopped and repositioned his head so that he could see her out of the corner of his eye. "What did you mean when you said that I was the one to save you?"

"You are my saviour, Christine, from the darkness which I live in. You will save me from complete damnation for you are _my _answer from heaven. Hmm, yes, you are the angel to save me from the devil within. It is like what you just said, Christine: my soul is already twisted and distorted, like my face, but my heart could still be pure. And you, my shining light, could rekindle that from within me ... I have not known kindness in my life and these brief moments with you are the closest that I have come to bliss.

"I do not expect you to return my love but I hope one day that you will fully understand-"

"I hope so too."

Erik ignored her but sighed. "My mask has been my only companion through these dreadful years of my pitiful life. It touched and shielded my face; it has done which my own Mother could not ... No other has seen my face, except you, my Christine. You know the burden I carry..."

"I-" She said whilst automatically reaching out for him.

"That is what I mean, my dear."

And with that he melted into the shadows leaving Christine once again alone.


	27. An idea

**So so sorry that I haven't been giving this story as much attention as I should and sorry for the late updates! But thank you again for the reviews and keep reading!**

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Christine's thoughts were all over the place as she made her way through the crowd. If anyone had looked upon her they would have thought that she was intoxicated. The twirling yellows and spinning reds were a blur to her, as was her mind. Each heavy step she took burned into the floor. Her eyes scanned the room for Raoul, who she found drinking heavily from the other side of the room. Much to her displeasure, he was standing next to some of the cheaply dressed ballet dancers who were looking for more than they could get. Christine straightened up and pulled herself together as she went to break the little group up.

"What is going on here, Raoul?" Christine spoke with her hands fiercely on her hips.

The three ballerinas, with their heavily applied make-up, giggled and said goodbye to Raoul. He was swaying slightly with a fixed grin on his face. She could not believe him; he had left her not ten minutes ago.

"Christine!" He smiled and held up the bottle to her which she yanked out of his hand. She glared at him. "Hey! That was not very nice."

Christine stared at the bottle and shook it. She raised an eyebrow at Raoul when she discovered that the bottle was three-quarters of the way drunk. "What were you doing with those girls, Raoul?"

He shrugged and flashed her a grin. "We were just talking about the effects of the global economy on the less fortunate." He let out a burst a laughter and slapped his knee.

"How drunk are you, Raoul?"

"Drunk? Moi?" He wrapped his arms around her waist. "How ever could you suggest such a thing?"

Christine frowned and slowly pushed his hands away. "Well, you were being a little bit over friendly with those girls."

"Oh Christine." Raoul tried his best to clear his head of all cloudiness and coughed. "You know you are the only one for me." He lightly touched her chin with the tips of his fingers. "I would love for you to do me the honour of becoming my wife, but such things do not pass your mind as often as they do in mine." He swallowed keeping his huge eyes on her concerned ones. "From the moment I first saw you to the moment we-" he let his control over his tipsiness go and he swayed while entwining his fingers together, "-made sweet, sweet love."

"Raoul!" She gasped. "Please do not talk about that, especially in public! It was informal and improper of us to do that that night and-"

"Christine, you are missing the point. I love you_ ... _but Christ! Learn to have a little fun!"

Christine sighed and rubbed her arms thinking of the words Erik had just spoken to her. She shook her head determined to get rid of these thoughts. "Raoul." She grabbed a hold of his hand and he friend at her. "Can you be serious for one moment, please?" He nodded and swallowed hard. "If you truly love me, Raoul, please let us leave here."

"OK, Christine, we will leave the party if that is what you wish."

"No, no, Raoul. Paris. I want to ... leave Paris."

He frowned. "Leave Paris? Why?"

"I need to get away from here for a while."

"OK, but on one condition." He clumsily bent down on one knee and took her hands in his. Christine's eyes grew as wide as that of a seal pups. "Christine Daaé, will you marry me?"

Christine gulped. Was she ready for marriage? Was she ready to give herself to him forever? She bit her lip as she felt the roughness of the ring which already had its place on her hand. Erik's ring. A promise. Was she ready to give him up just like that? After all, she was only a child and barely an adult. Christine couldn't just walk away from her teacher without another word. She couldn't leave him alone like that…

She had already confessed her love to her childhood sweetheart; something which she had dreamed about for years. Yet a swirl of doubts flooded Christine's mind. Oh course Raoul would be a loving husband and a Father one day, but when was the question. Paris was her life, her love. She had grown up here ever since her Father had taken he here before he died. It was her home…

"Christine?" He asked again slowly growing impatient.

She did love Raoul, there was no question about that. And she could see that he loved her too, so very dearly. He once said that she belonged in the higher portion of life, naturally she didn't believe him. Christine knew that if she married him that she would never go hungry or unclothed a day in her life. He offered her more than his love, but stability too. Christine had imagined her wedding day so many times she could describe it down to the very last spec of dust. What she had never imagined before was Raoul and herself dressed in fine clothes strolling down the street as a married couple, with only a gold band that bound them to each other. Could she live up to his expectancies? There was only one way to find out …

"Yes." She spoke not quite believing that she had.

He beamed and kissed her hand. "Oh, thank you, my love. You will not be sorry." He laughed and took the bottle from Christine's hand. "We shall leave tomorrow, if that is what you wish! And then we can finally get that cheap bit of metal off your finger that you so care for."

Christine withdrew her hand from his quite sharply, offended that he would say such a thing. "We may leave tomorrow, but-" she fiddled with the ring, "-I need to say goodbye first."

Raoul frowned and growled. "To _him_?" Christine nodded. "I will not permit you to venture down there again!"

"Then let me say goodbye in the only other way."

"And what is that?"

"I will sing, for him, one last time."

Raoul ran his fingers through his hair and laughed. "Are you serious?" She nodded confidently. He sighed. "Very well."

He took her in her arms and shut his eyes basking in her warmth. Christine returned the hug half heartedly but, when her face was compared to Raoul's, there was no emotion upon it. _Oh God ... what have I done?_

* * *

"Mademoiselle Daaé, I am sorry but La Carlotta will not allow it!" Said Richard for the fifth time within this conversation.

Christine sat quietly in an office chair with her hands on her lap. Raoul stood next to her with his arms folded. "But you are the managers!" Raoul said stepping in and spoke almost with a sarcastic tone. "Surely you are the ones in control and not that dreadful woman!"

Richard and Moncharmin exchanged a look. Moncharmin sat behind the desk while Richard was perched on the edge on the desk. "Monsieur, you do not know how highly tempered that woman is."

"Oh believe me, I know." Raoul muttered as began to pace after giving Christine a concerned glance.

"Monsieur Richard, monsieur Moncharmin, please, just for one night. I promise you that I will sing only tonight."

"Forgive me, Mademoiselle Daaé," spoke Moncharmin, "but why all the hast?"

"Christine and myself are engaged and we wish to wed out of the country as soon as possible." Christine looked at Raoul and smiled. What he spoke wasn't entirely a lie but she still was thankful that he had spoken and that he was here with her.

"Ah, congratulations!" Said Moncharmin who immediately leaned forward to shake Raoul's hand.

"Congratulations!" Added Richard who started to clap.

Moncharmin groaned. "Richard, please. Not so loud, I am still recovering from last nights entertainment..." He sighed and looked at the hopeful Christine. "I am afraid that I still cannot let you perform."

Raoul straightened up and gestured for the two managers to follow him outside. "Gentlemen, if you would care to step outside for a moment. I have a proposition for you."

The three men stepped outside leaving Christine on her own. She kept her eyes always on the door and listened intently. But despite her efforts, she could not hear a word that they said.

"What is the proposition then, Monsieur?" Asked Richard.

"I am proposing that this could be the chance to capture our Opera Ghost."

The two managers were baffled. "Explain." Said Moncharmin.

Raoul nodded and spoke, "If Christine should sing then he is certain to attend and that would lead him right into our trap!"

"Go on."

"We set police up around the block and in the theatre, just in case he tries anything." Raoul continued. "And if he does then we will be ready, won't we?"

"And what would happen if he were to any sort of gesture towards Mademoiselle Daaé?" Asked Richard.

Raoul gritted his teeth. "Then I would personally enjoy the task of shooting that bastard."

Richard scratched his head and Moncharmin sighed. "Monsieur Vicomte, as much as I am pleased about this idea of yours, I am afraid I must decline your request." Raoul frowned. "I - _we -_ will not allow you to handle a loaded gun in public, let alone in range of anyone. We simply cannot allow it."

"But-"

"No." Snapped Moncharmin.

Raoul glared at the two men but he slowly supressed his anger and nodded. Moncharmin continued. "While on the subject, I think that it would be best if you sit in our box, just so that we can keep an eye on you."

Raoul was shocked. "Keep an eye on me?" He repeated spitefully. "I am not some common mutt."

"For Mademoiselle Daaé's sake, Vicomte, please." Added Richard.

Raoul stared at him but didn't relax his posture. "Alright. But if something were to happen to her I will not only be holding _him _responsible but you two as well!"

"Understood." Richard turned his colleague. "We shall go to Inspector Nadir this afternoon and recruit his men."

Raoul nodded, pleased that his plan was coming together. "Good."

"But are you suggesting," asked a now timid Moncharmin, "that we use mademoiselle Daaé as bait?"

Raoul paused for a moment before answering. "Yes." He had not thought about it like that before. He would had never thought of Christine as 'bait'. But after hearing those words come out of Moncharmin's mouth, he was starting to realise what he was going to put her through...

"You do realise that you are putting her in great risk in doing this." Said Richard.

Raoul nodded and looked at the two men boldly in the eye. "I know ... but it is a risk that I am willing to take. I want him dead."

"Moncharmin," Spoke Richard. "You might as well go down to the police station now. Tell Nadir of our problem; he will know what to do." Moncharmin nodded and walked off. He then spoke directly to Raoul. "Nadir is one of the finest policeman who you will ever come to meet, Vicomte-"

"Richard." Interrupted Raoul as he held up a hand to silence him. "I do not care who deals with it. I just want it done, alright?"

He nodded before the two opened the office door again. Christine was fixing the creases on her dress when they re-entered the room. Richard walked up to her and said, "Very well, my dear. You shall have your last performance tonight."


	28. Before the performance II

**Well the good news is that my exams are nearly done so I will be able to update quicker after the weekend!:) It seems ages ago since I last updated and I am very sorry to have kept you waiting! But the bad news is the quality of this chapter - *hides eyes* - so please review and read and enjoy!:) oh and I've changed the ending of the last chapter slightly by mentioning Nadir, so I'd advice you to read the end of the last chapter again before reading on!:)**

* * *

Christine paced back and forth in what small space she had. She was not in her, now Carlotta's, dressing room but instead in a much smaller and cheaper room with only a wardrobe, a small cracked mirror and an old chair in it. Christine stopped every so often to stare at her face in the mirror and every time she looked away in disgust. She knew that this was the right thing to do though. This, her singing, was her way of saying goodbye to Erik without having to pain him with doing it in person. Christine didn't want to bring him any more pain.

The Opera that she was performing tonight was not exactly helpful in this situation. It was Charles Gounod's Romeo et Juliette, and oh course, she as playing the lead. The story had everything she was feeling: love and fear. It was hard for Christine to tell one from another at this point in time. With everything that was going on at this time, no wonder Christine didn't want to sit still.

On a light note; she had already known this part by heart so there weren't any major changes that had to be made to fit her arrangement. When asked how she had already come to learn the part; Christine replied simply that she had learned the lead part when she was in the chorus, before she had her chance to sing solo.

Christine nervously fiddled with the ring on her finger. It wasn't Raoul's ring, but Erik's ring that she was touching. She bit her lip as she continued to pace, glancing down at the band around her finger every few seconds. Her head shook back and forth as she finally gave her feet a rest and flopped her body down onto a chair. Christine sighed and pulled the ring off of her finger. She held it between her fingers before placing it gently onto the dresser. The minutes rolled by whilst she stared at the shimmer of light on front of her and as those minutes passed she began to dread this night more and more. The dread and stress built up as she wondered how Erik would react after knowing that tonight was the last time that he would see her.

She held her head deep in her hands. Christine was actually thinking about whether or not she was going to perform or not. Her thoughts were interrupted when a knock sounded from behind the door.

Christine slowly lifted her head out of the hands but did not look at the door. "Who is it?"

"It's me." Raoul.

Her head turned at the sound of her lover's voice. "Raoul." She stood up. "Come in."

Raoul came in, closing the door behind him. She had expected him to be carrying flowers but instead he held nothing. He strode over to where Christine stood and took her hands in his in one quick motion. He placed a light kiss on her forehead. "How are you feeling?"

She huffed and titled her head back. "How do you think I am feeling Raoul?" She snapped. "I am losing so much in one night … I do not think that I can perform." Christine closed her eyes. "I am sorry, Raoul. I did not mean to say it like that. I am just-"

"Christine." He spoke softly as he cupped her face in his hands. "Christine." He spoke a second time, his voice a little louder now. "Look at me."

Her eyes stayed glued shut for a moment. But when she opened them, they were sparking with ready tears. "Raoul." She whispered. "I am frightened. I do not know if I can do this."

"You can. Why? Because you are strong." He thumbed away a tear that had edged its way out of the duct. "Because it will give you a chance to sing one last time in Paris and it will make you happy knowing that _he _has attended." _Not to mention that this could be the chance to ensnare our clever friend... _

"You are right, Raoul." She stepped back and rubbed her temples slowly. "I am over-reacting, aren't I?"

Raoul nodded and then stared into Christine's tense eyes. "Christine." She stared back only to then have her gaze drawn down to his hand. "I had hoped to do this another way but seeing how lousy last night's attempt was I wanted to have another try." Raoul flashed her one of those dazzling grins she loved so much. He had pulled a small velvet box from his coat pocket and he held it in both hands. "It would seem that tonight is the only time to do it, and so this time I shall do it right." Christine gasped as she watched Raoul bend down on one knee and opened the little box. Inside was an exquisite diamond ring, fetching at a price of much more than Christine could ever imagine. Her hand reached up to touch her chest and she could feel her heart pounding like an unsteady drum. "Christine Daaé, will you do me the honour of marrying me?

This proposal really did make her heart a flutter compared with the attempt on the intoxicated Raoul's part the night before. Christine gazed at him for the longest of seconds before slowly nodding her head. A grin grew on her face as she breathed out a happy sigh. Raoul joined her in her smile and carefully slipped the ring on. With the box still in his hand; he stood up and gently laid a long kiss on Christine's lips. When Raoul pulled away her lips were tingling with excitement. She gazed into his eyes and pulled on his collar forcing him to come closer again. He obeyed and leaned forward finding Christine's lips with his. She laced her hands behind his neck as their kisses continued. Christine titled her head to the side so that he could have more access to her mouth. Raoul moved away momentarily to put the little box down so that both of his hands would be free.

As he reached down to place the box on the dressing table he stopped in his tracks. It took a few seconds for Christine to realise what he was looking at. Raoul frowned and dropped the box carelessly on the table and stared at Erik's ring. Christine had completely forgot that she had left it there. She tried to get it out of Raoul's reach, quite unsuccessfully too. Her hand flew to the ring trying to snatch it before Raoul could completely realise what is was. Unfortunately, Raoul had already grabbed the delicate band in his hand and turned his back to her. Christine left her hand in mid-air; wanting to reach out to both the ring and Raoul. She waited for him to speak, knowing that he would not be pleased. At all.

Raoul stared his closed hand which held the ring. He did not look at her. "You still have this, Christine?"

She nodded and looked at his back. "Yes, Raoul." She placed her hand on Raoul's shoulder who immediately shoved it off. He then proceeded to pace the room, his eyes all on his hand.

"Why?" Christine just stared at her fiancé with scared eyes. When she did not answer he spun around and growled. "Why?"

Christine took a sharp intake of breath at Raoul's sudden yell and she averted her eyes from him. "Because." She mumbled.

Raoul screwed his eyes up and looked at Christine as if she had gone mad. "Because why, Christine? You are not engaged to this man, you are engaged to _me._ And _only _me!"

"I know, Raoul." She spoke in a tiny voice.

Raoul gritted his teeth and stormed up to Christine with the ring held tightly between his fingers. He shoved the ring in her face and she winced at his cruel sudden actions. "Then _why _do you wear _his_ ring?" His voice was raised way more than Christine had ever heard it before.

"Because..." She repeated whilst not looking at him.

"Christine, you tell me right this moment or so help me I will-"

"Will what, Raoul?" Christine snapped suddenly regaining her strength. Her head whirled back in his direction and they locked eyes with each others. Christine knew she could stick up for herself; she had just forgotten how, that's all. Raoul squinted his eyes at her and impatiently waited for her reply. "It is a promise, Raoul."

"A promise?" His breath was uneven and his anger was rising. "To that monster?" He pointed towards the door.

Christine closed his eyes, wishing that Raoul would stop talking about Erik like that. "He is not a monster," she said quietly, "he is my friend. A friend I made a promise to."

Raoul stared at Christine and grabbed her by her shoulders. "What are you thinking? Have you gone completely mad, woman?" He shook her and Christine glued her eyes shut even more wishing that he would stop. "Is this how you treat your future husband-to-be? By wearing the ring that belongs to another man?" He stopped shaking her but still held a firm grip on Christine's shoulders. "I think I have been quite the gentleman allowing you to wear that piece of garbage in the past, but now, now it is a different story." He laughed cruelly and threw the ring in the corner harshly. Christine heard the sound of the band colliding with the floor and she winced. "You must be mad by excepting anything from him!" He suddenly released Christine and her eyes slowly opened. She started to shake. "That is it, isn't it? He has brainwashed you! And God help me Christine, if he tries to take you from me tonight I will kill him!"

"No!" Christine raised a shaking hand and Raoul grabbed it.

"Do not contradict me, you stupid girl or..." He trailed off when he noticed that she was trembling. It suddenly hit him how mean he was very close to beating her. Raoul shook his head and gazed at Christine with sorry filled eyes. "Oh Christine, my love, forgive me." He bowed his head into the hand he held. He slowly rubbed his face up and down her skin trying to make amends. "I did not mean to be so harsh. I did not, believe me!"

Christine bit her lip to stop herself from slapping Raoul in the face. She stared at the man in front of her and then at the ring lying unwanted in the corner. "It is fine, Raoul." She lied. "Do not worry yourself." Raoul looked up at her. "You can go now." He started to protest but she silenced him. "I need to get ready, Raoul. My performance, my _last _performance is very soon. I want to make it a night to remember."

Raoul kissed her hand and mumbled into it. "You will, Christine. You will be magnificent, as usual." Christine looked away as he made his way to the door. Raoul opened the door and glanced back at her. "I will meet you here after the performance." Christine nodded. Raoul was about to leave when he glanced back at her for the second time. "Christine?"

"What?" She said, her voice breaking.

"I love you." And with that he left.

Christine closed her eyes and breathed in his words.

That was the first time he had uttered those words to her, well, it was the first time he had uttered those words to her whilst he was not intoxicated. But, oh course she knew that he loved her … it was just that he had never actually said it to her. She figured he didn't need to. Why else would he had wanted to marry her?

She opened her eyes and she remembered the ring lying in the corner. Christine went to it and kneeled down. Her fingers lightly touched the band and without thinking she slipped it onto her finger once again. She knew that this would anger Raoul more but nevertheless she was confident in her actions. "A promise is a promise..." She whispered to herself.

* * *

**Yes the Opera choice is a little iffy and could have been better but it does have some absolutely wonderful music in it!:) Again sorry to keep you waiting! BUT you'll be happy to know that I will be posting the next chapter in a few hours!**


	29. Plans

Christine was only just adjusting to the feeling of having two rings on one hand and she found that she kept fiddling with them every time she came off stage. Thankfully no one noticed this and just ignored her when she did. Every so often Christine would look down at her hand and stare at the two rings given to her by the two most important people in her life. She felt that if she were to remove one ring, she would be defying that person.

It only took her ten seconds to find Raoul in the crowd. Christine was confused over why he was sitting with the managers and not his brother. Philippe was sitting in the box opposite them, box five to be exact, on the other side of the auditorium, watching intensely at the performance below him. He knew of his brother's plan but he thought that the situation could have been handled in a better way. 'Careless' he had said. Philippe had also agreed with the managers that, when he learned that this could endanger his brother's fiancée, this was very risky. Philippe thought very highly of his brother but never had he thought that he would sink this low. He was shocked that Raoul was even thinking about putting his fiancée in danger.

Christine had made it through three acts and all was good. She had just stepped out onto the stage for Act IV and her stomach churned. Her two rings felt like two burdens that she was made to carry, which were becoming heavier by the minute. Christine knew what this was all leading up to and she didn't want this performance to end. She wished that Erik was listening and she wished that she knew where he was. Her thoughts turned to the worst when she thought of the possibility that, after the performance, he hadn't heard her sing and had missed his chance to hear her voice one last time. But of course he would be there. He always was.

Up in the high seats sat Moncharmin, Richard and Raoul. The two managers were enjoying watching the Opera and had almost forgot about the police officers who were positioned all around the theatre. Raoul had his arm rested and clenched on the edge of the seat.

"All is going well." Spoke Richard whilst leaning in towards the direction of Raoul.

"Why has he not shown up yet?" Raoul said blatantly ignoring Richards question.

"Who?" Asked Moncharmin.

"The Phantom." Answered Richard and then turned his attention back to Raoul. "Do not fret, he will come, just like you said."

"And what if he does not?" He stared at Richard. "What then?"

"I, er, I do not know, Monsieur Vicomte."

Raoul turned his head away to mumble a few curses in favour of Richard. He stopped, though, as he spotted and locked eyes with Philippe. The brothers gave a quick silent nod to each other before returning their gazes to Christine on the stage.

"She really is a spectacular singer." Moncharmin sighed. "It is a great shame that we are losing her after tonight."

Raoul brought his hand up to his face so that he could lean on it. His fingers covered the front of his mouth and so his reply was muffled, but only slightly. "Hmm, she does have a great talent."

"I do hope that you will encourage her to keep up her career after you leave Paris." Said Richard which was followed by a cough.

Raoul shifted in his seat to try to avoid the managers' germs. He scoffed. "Oh course I will, I would not be a very good husband if I were not to encourage her talents!" He sighed, realising that he had spoken a lie. "Is everyone in place, gentlemen?"

"The police?" Questioned Moncharmin as he leaned in. Raoul nodded. "Yes, we have them posted all around the theatre, as you can see." He turned and gestured to an armed guard who Raoul had forgotten was there. "They are ready to move as soon as something happens, Monsieur Vicomte." He moved his eyes back to the stage. "Nadir is quite the professional, if I do say so my self."

"Who is Nadir?" Raoul asked impatiently as he raised a hand to his face so that his fingers could massage his tempels.

"He is the fellow I spoke to you briefly about yesterday." Said Richard.

"Oh." Raoul shut his eyes. "I do not recall that."

"Hmph." Exclaimed Richard. "Surely you can remember that I did."

"What about him, Richard?" Raoul snapped, his impatience growing by the minute. His nerves were bundled and tight and he was sure that he would act rashly as soon as he spotted trouble.

"Well from what we have witnessed, our ghost is a madman who is obsessed with your young diva. And as you have pointed out; _he _will attend the Opera if she is the one singing and-"

"The point please, Richard." He said followed by a sigh.

"Ah yes, the point is that Nadir has had over twenty years of experience chasing down madmen. He diverges himself into his work so much that once he even pursued a criminal all the way to Persia!"

"Persia?" Raoul spoke, mildly interested. "Was he able to catch him?"

"Oh yes, well that is after about four years." Richard continued smiling to himself. "Afterwards he was in much trouble for disobeying orders it was a dead set that he would be stripped of his position. You see, he was never one to follow orders and it is quite ironic to think that now he is the chief of police.

"I can assure you that once he has an assignment, he will never stop."

"You should have seen his reaction when I spoke to him about the Phantom!" Moncharmin added.

"But what kept him motivated during those four years?"

"He likes to get inside the head of a criminal, God knows who would want to! He said once that it makes the chase more enjoyable and at the same time easier." Said Moncharmin.

Richard smiled towards Raoul who did not return the gesture. "So you see, Monsieur Vicomte, this case is in good hands."

"It had better be." Raoul muttered into his hand.

* * *

Behind the doors of the boxes, Madame Giry walked down the looming hallway until she reached box five. Her walking cane hit the floor in equal beats. She was calm, yet frightened at the same time. If Erik were to try anything she knew that she had to stop him this time. She had not tried hard enough to stop the chandelier disaster from happening, God forbid the managers to know of this, and so she was absolutely determined to make amends.

Madame Giry was well past her peak in youth but she still knew what is was like to be young and in love. She also remembered what it was like to ease drop through closed doors; just like a young girl servant girl was doing outside box five. Madame Giry strode towards the girl and laid an old hand on her shoulder.

"Scram! You should not be back here…" The embarrassed girl turned to face Madame Giry. "Meg!" Her daughter put her head down not wanting to meet her Mother's disapproving eyes. "What on Earth are you doing? You do realise that this is _his _box."

"Yes Mama, I do-"

"Then what-" Madame Giry's loud voice was no match to Meg's fragile one, "-are you doing outside it?"

"I was listening for 'im, Mama, but-" she glanced towards the door, "-but…"

"But what, Megan?" She was constantly having to repeat herself when she was speaking with her daughter. It annoyed her greatly.

"There are two men in there, I can tell by their breathin'. Mama, I do not know who they are."

Madame Giry's mouth hung opened. No one was allowed in that box except for Erik. She looked between the door and her daughter a few times before placing her hand on the door handle. She looked towards Meg. "Stay here."

Meg nodded and backed away into the shadows. She watched as her Mother pushed the door open with a great deal of force and quickly slipped inside closing the door behind her. Madame Giry was left gaping at the two men. They turned round at the same time with matched expressions upon their faces. Madame Giry recognised one of them to be Raoul's brother and she nodded in his direction. As her eyes gazed to the other man, she frowned when she realised that she had never seen him before. He had black hair and a very tanned face, which in the light looked almost made it look grimy. He had wide eyes that were fixed upon Madame Giry's frail face and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

"Do forgive me Messieurs, but I am afraid that you have been seated incorrectly. If you would like to follow me to your correct seats then-"

"There was no mistake, Madame, we are seated correctly." Spoke the stranger.

"Um," Madame Giry racked her brain to try to come up with a convincing story, "I am afraid that you are mistaken, Monsieur-"

"Oh." The stranger spoke as he extended a hairy hand towards her. "Nadir, Inspector Nadir."

"Inspector?" She said timidly.

"Yes Madame, I have been called here to deal with this Phantom fellow." He leaned in towards her. "You know of whom I speak of, yes?"

Madame Giry nodded and he released her from the handshake. "I did not realise that the police had gotten involved in this." She said quietly.

"Yes well, we are, and I am puzzled over why anyone did not tell me of this madman before. I am sure this will be a very interesting assignment for me." He smiled for a moment before looking back at Madame Giry. "Now I am glad that we have that sorted, would you be so kind as to leave?"

He tried to say it in the most polite way he could but he was unsuccessful. Madame Giry felt her face turn white with fear; fear for Erik and fear of what he would do if he found out about the polices involvement. _I must find him! _

Philippe had turned around to see what was happening and he was shocked to see how pale the woman looked. "My God, Madame Giry. Are you alright?"

Madame Giry glanced at him and nodded. "Oh course, Monsieur. I have been feeling a little ill, that is all." She flicked a hand in his direction dismissing his concern. "Very well." She spoke after a moment. "I shall leave you. Enjoy the rest of the Opera, Messieurs."

Madame Giry left without another word said and leaned on the closed-door with her eyes firmly shut. Meg re-appeared from the darkness and frowned when she saw her Mother.

"Mama?" Meg stepped closer and she saw how ghastly she looked. Meg gasped and ran towards her. "Oh Mama! Are you alright?"

She nodded a composed herself. "Yes, my child." She blinked and something cam over her. "The Vicomte's brother and an inspector are in there."

Meg stared at the closed-door. "An inspector?" She gasped. "Does _'e _know?"

Madame Giry rubbed her forehead. "I am not sure. We must find him!" Madame Giry started to walk off swiftly with little Meg in pursuit but stopped suddenly. "Oh damn. Where could he be, Megan?"

"I, er-"

"He is not in box five, Meg, he is not even hiding. I am sure of this! But where else could he be?"

"Mama, I-"

"The rooftop perhaps!"

"Mama!" Meg squealed finally finding her voice. Madame Giry looked startled by her daughter's sudden outburst. "I know where 'e is."

"What? How? Where?"

"Follow me."

Meg rushed down as fast as she could to the behind the stage, dodging a few performers on the way. Madame Giry tried her best to keep up with her young daughter but she found her self trailing behind slightly. When they reached backstage, Act V, had just started and the stage was in total darkness. This made it hard to see but the two did their best to try to find any unwanted movements in the darkness.

Meg wandered about blindly until she bumped into something which was on the floor. She was caught off guard and had nearly feel over due to it. She reached down and felt what this object was. Her hand traced over the rather large object and over some strange familiar material. It was not until her hand had moved further upwards that she realised what this was. Meg gasped and backed away. She opened her mouth widely to scream but a hand flew over her mouth before even a squeak could be released.

Meg struggled until she heard her Mother's voice. "Hush. It is alright, Megan."

Meg wanted to scream her lungs out. She shut her eyes and turned her head away from the sight in front of her. Lying motionless on the floor was the leading tenor, Sebastian Michot, with a piece of rope wrapped tightly around his deep red and purple neck. Madame Giry took a good long look at the body and noticed that his eyes were still open. She looked away in disgust and comfortingly stroked Meg's messy hair. She pulled her daughter backwards away from the corpse and back into the light.

"Where are you, Erik?" Madame Giry whispered very quietly.

* * *

Christine lay silently on her 'tomb' on stage awaiting the final scene. The tomb was about four feet off the ground but to Christine it seemed like a hundred. Her heart was pounding fiercely and she found herself becoming more and more agitated. But this was her final performance and so she wasn't going to let her nerves get the better of her. Christine closed her eyes and started to become entranced by the music which surrounded her. She found it quite difficult to not fidget with her rings or her soft long white dress when she was supposed to be playing dead. Even though the lights were off she was still uncomfortable in the dark.

The music slowly started to merge into the beginning of the finale and so she quickly repositioned herself correctly before a few dim lights were lit on stage. She sighed but was tense when Romeo's entrance came …

She kept her eyes firmly shut as she listened to this unfamiliar voice. She knew that it wasn't Michot, and she immediately wondered what had happened to him. _Has he fallen ill? What has happened? I cannot perform with a stranger …Who is he? _She asked herself.

As Romeo's solo progressed and the singer emerged from the shadows and ran over to the side of the tomb, Christine shivered. However, she felt her muscles start to relax and completely soften as she listened closely to this man's voice. And oh, what a spectacular voice it was! Such dynamics, such pitching, such … beauty. Christine had never heard anything quite like it before.

She did not move when she felt the singer's hand softly touch her shoulder and hair. Christine felt this to be oddly unfamiliar but she didn't know why because this was rehearsed. This was what should happen … and yet those hands were unrehearsed. She knew that in the script Romeo was to lean down and embrace Juliette and she nervously peaked open her eyes at the tenor.

This was a mistake. Her breath caught and her eyes bulged and she fought hard not to get up and run off the stage. She knew she had to stay where she was and so she winced at the sight in front of her. The man brought his head down so close to hers and she was then trapped in his scripted embrace. Christine sat there being held tightly in this strange embrace. Her head was on the other side of this tenor and therefore was hidden from the audiences' view.

This man wore a hood but it was not enough to shield the mask that he was wearing.

"My dear." He purred in Christine's ear. She closed her eyes at the instant she heard his voice. She could feel his hot even breath on her neck and it made the hairs on her arms stand up. "You did not think that I would miss your last performance, did you?"

"Erik." She whispered back helplessly as he gently set her back down onto the tomb.


	30. The curtain falls

Christine felt her heart almost stop as she was held by the man who both thrilled and scared her. She knew she couldn't run from him and he knew this too. It was the perfect trap. One that Christine felt stupid for not contemplating beforehand. And now the time had come for the hunter to collect his prize…

Erik let the music take over him as he allowed the melodic words to roll off his tongue as if it was easy as breathing. He gazed down at Christine's small frame and, with shaking hands, caressed her hair and face. His plan was working perfectly and from the audience's perspective, no one suspected a thing!

Christine lay so still that some people would think that she was actually dead. She allowed Erik's cold hands to touch her skin as he sang. His touch tingled at her skin and it sent a shiver right down to the tips of her fingers. Christine preferred Erik when he was in her sights at all times and not when he was making contact with her with those bony fingers. And to be this position where she could not see him! She was afraid, so very afraid.

However as Erik's singing continued she was becoming more and more compelled by his voice. She had no clue that he could sing like that. His voice was angelic. Christine allowed his words to wrap round her and consume her. The tune progressed and she almost jumped out of her skin when she heard that sudden change in dynamics. Romeo had just drank the poison that would reunite him with his lover and Christine readied herself for her solo.

What amazed her was the amount of passion that Erik was providing this part. His voice was so rich and beautiful that it made Christine really believe for a moment that he truly was Romeo. She felt an urge to go to him, comfort him, care for him. Yes, Sebastian Michot did have a great talent and would have made a superb Romeo, but he did not have that little spark that Erik did. She then wondered where he could be and what unearthly force had allowed Erik to be on stage in his place …

Erik continued to sing the heartbreaking words as he stumbled around the stage with a hand on his heart acting just like a dying man. He did believe that no one suspected him to be anything more than Michot, given that the public had never heard either of them sing before, but he knew to be cautious. Erik, as it said in the script, collapsed at the corner of the stage in 'pain'. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Madame Giry facing him with an unrecognisable expression on her face and little Meg burying into the front of her. Erik did not seem to care but he knew that they knew.

He wasn't going to let this opportunity pass him by. He wasn't going to let the opportunity to hear Christine sing one last time go. He wasn't going to let Christine go and marry that boy…

Erik knew that Christine was _his_, whether she saw that or not. She belonged to him and no one else…

Christine began to stir on the tomb and she fluttered her eyes open. She brought her hand up to her face to lightly trace the part where Erik had touched. She breathed out a sigh and then opened her mouth wide to sing.

Erik could never have forgotten that sweet noise which graced from her lips. He closed his eyes and propped himself up with his elbow so that he could see Christine properly. She could never cease to take his breath away with her beauty of face, her beauty of song and her beauty of heart. But he was not her equal, nor could he ever be her equal. He was a demon who was in love with an angel…

Erik continued to lie there on the floor as he sang back to her, while Christine began to sit herself up. She took her time, half because she was supposed to do it this way and half because she did not want to see Erik. She propped herself up and took her first glances around her, eventually making her eyes stop on the other figure on stage. His eyes met hers and Christine immediately looked away.

Christine held a shaky hand out in front of her and replied to Erik in song. She didn't realise that he was already right by the tomb clutching a candle stand which stood beside it. He held out a hand to Christine, almost begging her to take it, and continued to sing. She swung her legs off the front of the tomb and steadied herself for what was coming. In the script the pair had to embrace and Christine felt herself blush the tiniest bit as she saw Erik stumble towards her.

He fell to his knees in front of her and Christine found her hands automatically reach out to hold him. Erik wrapped his hands around her waist pressing his head against her chest and Christine found herself caressing his arms and cloaked head. He gazed up at her with misty eyes and, while keeping one hand just above her waist, moved his other hand to touch the soft skin on her face. His fingers lightly brushed her jaw line and he watched as she sang to him with the amount of emotion that he had only dreamt of. After that the whole world seemed to blur around the two.

* * *

"What is it?" Asked Raoul when he noticed the managers exchanging confused glances.

"That is not him," spoke Richard.

"Yes." Replied Moncharmin.

"Lovely voice, mind you."

"Hmm, but who is he?"

"What?" Asked Raoul again, slowly growing impatient.

"Did you know about this?" Asked Moncharmin to Richard who were so caught up with their discussion that they did not notice Nadir watching them closely.

"No, I can say I did not! We did not have an understudy for Michot."

"Gentlemen!" Growled Raoul, his patience finally snapped. The two men both fixed their eyes on Raoul at the same time. "Please would someone explain to me what is going on!"

"_He_," started Richard whilst pointing to the stage below, "is not our tenor."

"Yes." Raoul spoke slowly as he lent back into his chair. "I knew that much." He gestured with his hands. "So what is the problem?"

"It is just peculiar that they could provide an understudy that quickly, given that Michot was just on stage in the previous act!" Richard massaged his wrinkled forehead.

"Could it be Reyes?" Asked Moncharmin.

"No. He is a baritone, I believe." He wiped his brow with his handkerchief. "Perhaps it could be Andres!"

"Hmm, maybe."

Raoul sat quietly and watched the managers suggesting name after name until there were no names left from the cast. Richard leaned forward in his chair supporting his head in his arms which rested upon his knees. "Or maybe..." he spoke quietly, which was then followed by a laugh. "No, it couldn't be."

Raoul frowned. "What, Monsieur?"

Richard scratched his head. "It is just that, given the situation, I had a crazy assumption that this man is…"

"The Phantom!" Raoul's eyes grew wide and he grabbed a firm hold on the arm rests of his chair.

Moncharmin frowned and looked at Raoul. "Come come now, Messieurs! Surely you are being too hasty with your assumptions."

Raoul was astonished. How could they have not thought about the possibility that this could happen. "And what if we are not, Moncharmin?" He spoke almost taunting him with his words. "What if it that _creature_ is down there on stage with my fiancée right this minute? Do you expect me just to sit here and watch?"

He stood up just as Moncharmin shot a hand out to stop him. "Monsieur, sit down! Do not make a scene of this."

Raoul stared at him now crinkled jacket and shoved Moncharmin's hand off. "Do not man handle me again, do you understand me?" He turned to the policeman behind him. "You," He pointed a finger directly in his face. "do something. Anything! Shoot by all means!"

The policeman looked quite affronted. He was not expecting this to be asked of him. His hands curled around his gun tighter as he saw Raoul eying it up as if he was going to snatch it from him. His head slowly shook. "I have strict orders not to make a move without the OK from Inspector Nadir." He nodded in Nadir's direction.

Raoul spun round and then forcefully placed his hands on the edge of the box. His fingers gripped the material so hard that they almost turned white in the process. He narrowed his eyes at Nadir and then gestured dramatically towards the stage. Nadir calmly rose and lifted a finger to silence him.

"Who does he think he is, silencing me?" Muttered Raoul under his breath. A quick stern look from Philippe put Raoul back in his place. Raoul saw Nadir whisper something in Philippe's ear and then saw the pair leave their box without another glance towards him.

"Well that is just perfect…" He muttered again before slamming his hand down, loud enough to startle Richard but not enough for anyone to take notice of him. "God damn it!"

"You are over reacting, Monsieur!" Moncharmin said as he tried to get the young Vicomte back into his seat. "Please, sit!"

"No." He growled. "If you will not do something, then I will!" He took one last glance at them and then at the stage before storming out of the box.

Raoul strode down the hallway with hatred clouding his eyes. Oh course he wouldn't have listened or made sense of anything anyone said to him. He was very possessive when he wanted to be.

Once; when Raoul was eight, his Mother, before her unexpected death, gave him a pocket watch. He cared for it dearly and did not let anyone touch, let alone look at it. He always kept it in a secret compartment which he himself rarely went into. He thought it to be the best thing in the world, at that point anyway, so you could have guessed how he must have felt when he was told that it was missing. Raoul was very upset and very angry and he did not do well when it came to containing his feelings. He spent months looking for that watch, but with no luck. Raoul couldn't have bared to think how his late Mother would react if she knew about the missing watch. He thought he must have broken her peaceful heart. But he was not going to let this happen to him again. He was not going to lose the woman who brought him love. Nothing was going to stop him now, nothing was going to stand in his way.

He turned a corner and then another and another until he reached backstage. His hands clenched as he glared at the two figures on stage. _How dare he touch her…_Raoul thought to himself.

"Raoul." The familiar voice made Raoul spin around on his heels.

"Philippe?" Raoul relaxed his hands and waited as his brother walked over to him. "What are you doing?"

"I am here to stop you from making a mistake, brother." He slowly placed his hands on his little brother's shoulders before continuing. "I know you want to stop him, Raoul, believe me I would help you-"

"Then help me by kindly removing your hands." Philippe sighed and obeyed. "Thank you. Now if you want to help me, make yourself useful and help me find one of those blasted policemen." He started to walk off.

"Why?"

Raoul stopped abruptly and chuckled. With his hands behind his back and a cruel smile playing on his lips, he turned and walked straight up to Philippe. "So that I can get a gun, oh course."

"Raoul, you are being rather rash. You do not even know if that is-" he stopped and pulled Raoul back into the shadows so that no one near could hear them, he then pointed to the stage, "-if that is the Phantom or not."

"I know. I know it is him, Philippe!"

"How?" He crossed his arms, rather amused at his brother's certainty.

"I just do, do not question why!" Raoul sighed. "Now are you going to help me?"

"No." He said flatly.

"Fine, I do not need your help anyway!"

"Raoul think about what you doing!" He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Philippe waited for his approval before continuing. "You want to kill that man on stage, you think that he is the Phantom, yes?"

He shrugged impatiently. "Your point?"

"My point is there." He sighed. "I have not seen you this worked up before in my life, and for what? Because of _her._"

"She has a name, it is Christine."

"I know, brother. I have seen that you care for her greatly-"

"I do. I love her."

Philippe looked quite stunned at his brother's reply. He blinked and shook his head to make sure that he had heard right. "Excuse me? You love her?"

"Yes."

"You love that penniless commoner? Raoul, you are a Vicomte! There are plenty of other women that you could marry! Women of the proper status!

"It is true that I have not cared much about your relationship with that girl since it begun, but now," he frowned, "now you have had your fun with her. It is time to move on. Forget her."

Raoul stared at his brother in disbelief. "What?" He breathed. "How could you say that?"

"She is not worth all this!" He raised his hands to make his point but as soon as he saw the look on his brother's face he sighed and dropped them. "Do you really love her, Raoul?"

"Yes!" He chuckled. "And I will, I _do_, not care what other people think of us. All I care about is her and knowing that she cares for me too."

"You are certain that she loves you?"

"She is marrying me, is she not?"

Philippe gazed out onto the stage. "I have heard that some women marry rich men for their money and then they leave them once they are satisfied." He turned his head back to face his appalled brother. "You would not want that to happen to you, would you?"

He shook his head refusing to believe a word that came out of his mouth. "Philippe you are talking in tongues! She loves me! And I love her." His eyes turned dark. "And that is why I need a gun."

"I am afraid I cannot let you do that!"

"And why not?"

"Because I gave him instructions to restrain you." The two men turned their heads to see Nadir standing there with his hands clasped behind his back. "Gentlemen if you would step this way for a moment, please?"

They complied and followed Nadir further backstage where no members of the cast were. But as they continued forward they saw two figures sitting on a bench. The first thing that struck Raoul and Philippe was the fact that one figure was huddled into the second and … she was shaking. It didn't take them long to find out who the two were.

"Madame?" Asked Philippe.

"She is fine, Monsieur." Madame Giry spoke of her daughter. She pulled her from her embrace and looked at the red-eyed Meg. "Will you be alright, Megan?"

She sniffed and wiped her nose as subtly as she could, fully aware that there were men present watching her. "Yes Mama." Meg stood up and turned her back to the three bare strangers, not wanting them to see her like this.

"Is she alright?" Raoul asked before taking a step towards Meg. "Mademoiselle-?"

"Monsieur," Madame Giry stopped him, "my daughter is just a little shaken because she saw the…" Her voice became timid.

Raoul frowned. "Saw what, Madame?"

"There was a murder." Nadir stepped in. "Sebastian Michot, the tenor who was performing as Romeo tonight was killed sometime between the forth and fifth act. The exact time is not certain for there was no one around to witness it."

"But surely _someone _was around? A helper or a cast member?" Asked Philippe.

"It is possible that there were people around, yet no one knew of it." Spoke Nadir which annoyed Philippe. If there was one thing in common with Philippe and Raoul, it was arrogance.

Madame Giry nodded her head in agreement. "Yes it is true, Monsieur. My daughter and I were walking in the wings because..." she couldn't tell him of her alliance with Erik, it was too risky. "I do not remember. But it was very dark and we could hardly hear anything since we were so near the orchestra. Megan found Michot in the shadows, Monsieur."

"How did he die?" Philippe asked.

"He was strangled, monsieur, by a Punjab lasso."

"Where…" Raoul turned around confused because he swore he saw no corpse. He frowned and looked at Nadir. "Where is the body now?"

"Some of my men took the body back to the station for further examination."

Raoul nodded and then huffed. "And why pray," he crossed his arms, "must I be restrained?"

"To stop you from being an idiot, of course!" Nadir said boldly. Raoul stood there with his mouth open as he listened to this man talk to him with no regard of his status at all. "We have to wait for the opportune moment, we cannot just pounce on the murderer like that." He emphasised the word 'that' by a click of his fingers. "Besides, I am sure that you do not wish to ruin your fiancée's finale Paris performance."

"How…how do you know about that?"

"Monsieur," Nadir suddenly looked rather smug. "it is my job to know things like that." He chuckled. "Congratulations by the way." He extended his hand but Raoul refused to shake it. Nadir was getting on his nerves. He sheepishly withdrew his hand. "She has a great talent. Do you have any idea where she will be performing after Paris?"

Raoul sighed. "She will not be performing again."

"Why ever not? You must want her to continue with her art, yes?"

"Yes of course, but I can afford both our well beings. She does not have to sing at all."

"So you are reducing her to the life of a house wife?"

He eyed Nadir and paused for a moment before answering. "Yes." Raoul took a step closer to Nadir, a little too close for his liking. "If you say another word on the matter-"

"Ah, it seems that the Opera is coming to an end." Nadir spoke quickly while avoiding Raoul's glare. "Shall we go to the wings?" He hurried off.

Nadir, Raoul, Philippe, Madame Giry and Meg then stood watching the finale with bated breath. Only after the last notes were played would they know who this man was.

Christine and Erik had finished singing and to their surprise they were both out of breath. They were so caught up in each other's presences that they had forgotten about the audience completely. Only the last few bars of music were left and the two ended in their finishing positions on the grave. The curtains closed and what followed was thunderous applaud. From the wings, only four of the five bystanders clapped. Raoul stood there with his hands clenched once again waiting for Christine to come off stage. But he didn't expect what happened next.

Just before the cast came on stage for their bows, Erik bolted up from his lying position and jumped off the tomb. He looked around quickly and on seeing Raoul and the others took no time at all to take his plan into action. Erik grabbed Christine's wrist and pulled her up with such a force that she thought that it was going to dis-attach from her arm. She gasped and struggled against his mighty grip. But it was no use; she knew from past experience that he would not let her go and that she could not wriggle her way out of it.

"I told you…" Raoul muttered to Philippe.

Before anyone else; Raoul, without thinking, ran across the stage towards them. Nadir followed and stopped a few feet back. He withdrew a gun from his jacket inner pocket and aimed at Erik. Raoul spun around to see this and urged him on. "Shoot, damn it, shoot!"

Erik scowled at Nadir and then at Raoul. He risked a glance down at Christine who was quietly whimpering like a little child under his clutch. Nadir stepped closer. "Let her go." He said strongly.

Erik hadn't planned for this. He hadn't planned ahead if he were to have a gun pointed in his direction. His plan had failed yet there was still a chance…

He spun Christine right up next to his body. She took a sharp intake of breath and stared at the floor. She again tried to scramble her way out of his grip, but her attempts failed. "You will come to me, Christine. You will..."

Erik suddenly released her and before Nadir could take a shot at him he vanished into the shadows. Nadir ran after him but after a minute of searching he returned to the others. "He has vanished."

Raoul frowned and joined Nadir on the other side of the wings. Christine then walked towards them after just taking her bows along with everyone else. "Christine." Raoul said quite loudly as he took her hand in his. To Christine's advantage, Raoul did not take the hand in which she wore both rings. "Are you alright?"

"Yes… I am fine." Christine said, both shaken and dazed.

"Where is he?"

She blinked and stared at Raoul. "What?"

"Where is he? How do we get to him?" Raoul growled while unconsciously squeezing her hand.

Christine winced and pulled her hand away from his. "I do not understand."

"He has killed Michot, Christine! He was planning on kidnapping you! You know it! Now, it would help us greatly if you told us where his hiding place is." Christine frowned at Nadir. "Oh... this is Inspector Nadir, Inspector Nadir this is Christine."

Christine stood with her mouth open as she watched Nadir give a small bow towards her. Her gaze soon turned towards Raoul. She couldn't believe that he hadn't told her about the police's involvement in this! Anger started to build in her but this was not the time to let it out.

She couldn't betray Erik, even if he was a murderer. In her eyes, he was nothing more than her mentor and … her friend. She shook her head. "Raoul, I-"

"Mademoiselle," added Nadir, "if you want this nightmare to end, if you want the killing to stop, I advise you comply and speak quickly."


	31. Anger

Christine did not know what to do.

For one thing she couldn't lie to Raoul, not to her sweet loving Raoul, but she couldn't betray Erik either, not after everything he had done for her. A hundred thoughts went flying through her mind at a hundred miles an hour as she was swiftly led by the arm, quite tightly too, to a more secluded are of the backstage. Christine held a dazed almost sickly expression on her face and if anyone had looked upon her they must have assumed she was ill. As she was pulled through the busy cheering cast she heard Raoul muttering curses under his breath. She rolled her head drunkenly towards him and stared at his mouth as words of bitterness came out.

"Ouch." She said quietly at first not knowing where this sudden pain had come from.

"Monsieur, where are you taking us?" Nadir asked, obviously not hearing Christine. He glanced behind him and noticed that Madame and Meg Giry were following close in their steps.

Raoul turned a corner sharply practically dragging Christine behind him. "Ow!" She exclaimed again. _So that is where the pain is coming from ... how nice of you Raoul to do that ..._

Raoul ignored her soft cries. "We are getting out-of-the-way of these people and into the light where we can talk, in private."

Christine glared at her fiancé suddenly recollecting her anger for him. "Raoul-"

"This way." Another sharp tug.

She gritted her teeth and huffed. "Raoul." Silence. "Let go of me!"

Christine managed to pull her arm free in time for Raoul to realise that he had hurt her. She glared at him before stomping off in the opposite direction. "Christine, wait!" He called after her. "Christine, darling, I am sorry!"

She had stopped in a clearing away from the hustle and bustle of things with her arms crossed. She felt like such a child but she couldn't help her feelings for him at this particular moment. Raoul stopped behind her and slowly brushed the side of his hand against her bare arm. She flinched and then spun around to face him, eye to eye.

"How could you, Raoul?" Christine snapped. She bit her lip to stop the tears from forming in her eyes. When she spoke again her tone had softened. "How could you…?"

She turned from him, her long curls flowing behind her like a veil. Raoul stared after his fiancée and frowned. "Damn." He muttered.

"I do not understand, Monsieur." Said Nadir stepping up next to Raoul. "What is the matter with Mademoiselle Daaé?"

Raoul sighed and rubbed his hand over his face as a sign of defeat. "I do not know, Inspector."

He started to go after her but Madame Giry laid a hand on his shoulder. "No, Monsieur, I think it is better if Meg and myself go to her." Behind her Meg nodded.

"Very well." Raoul spoke after a little reluctance.

Meg scuttled her way past the two men and went to find Christine while Madame Giry lingered behind. "Monsieur, come and find us if we are not back in five minutes or so." Raoul nodded and watched as the aging woman hurried after her daughter.

"I will never fully understand women…"

"They are a mystery." Agreed Nadir.

"Now, what are you planning to do about The Phantom?" Asked Raoul.

"Well," He held his arms in the comfortable position behind his back. "for one thing we need Mademoiselle Daaé to help us. We need her to cooperate so that she will tell us where he is hiding; unless you know of anyone else who would know?"

Raoul rubbed is temples. "No, no I do not. Unless it is to-"

"Urgh…" Groaned Philippe from behind.

Nadir turned and frowned. "What is the matter with you?"

"I cannot take all of this! I am not going to stick around to find out what you two are planning." Raoul sighed as Philippe stared at him. "What? Raoul, do you honestly think that this can all work out perfectly with _no _exceptions? Do you think that you can be the knight in shining armour, defeat the villain and ride off into the sunset with the oh-so damsel in distress?"

Raoul didn't like his brother's tone. Not one bit. "Philippe, if you are going to make comments like that I suggest you leave."

"I was planning on leaving anyway. If you get any sense knocked back into you, come and find me, I will be with the managers." And with that he left.

Raoul groaned but Nadir found himself smiling. "You see; I do not have a brother, so I do not of this brotherly love that you two share." Raoul stared at him and then started to pace around nervously. Nadir wiped the smile clean off his face. "I am sorry Monsieur if I have-"

"No, no it is not anything that you said … it is what I have said, Inspector."

"What ever do you mean?"

"I think it will be difficult to get Christine to cooperate."

"What are you talking about, Monsieur?" Nadir frowned as he saw Raoul stop his pacing.

"Lately I have not been treating Christine with the rightful … respect that she deserves. I have said some things, things that I have regretted and I have not said another word on the subject. But, this time, with me not telling her about your involvement may have pushed her over the edge. Maybe I have gone too far this time."

* * *

"Christine!" Meg's little voice couldn't reach her friend's ears no matter how loud she could talk. "Christine, please stop."

Meg picked up the hem of her rather dirty dress which helped in increasing her speed. She had no idea where Christine was headed and she sure neither did Christine. It wasn't too long before she came to a slow halt right under a light. Her back was arched and quivering, her hands were on her face and her waist long curls were hanging loose behind her. She was crying. Meg was not the best at comforting for she had no real experience in the matter, but this was her friend - she _had _to do something to help her.

Madame Giry's walking cane broke the silence and made Christine jump slightly but it did not interfere with her tears. She sighed and urged Meg forward towards her. Christine's cries were muffled under her hands but they still made Meg feel uneasy. Nevertheless; she walked forward and cautiously lay a hand on Christine's shoulder. Meg had expected her to shove her away or maybe ignore her completely and just run again, but she didn't. Instead Christine whirled around and buried her head deep into Meg's neck.

"Shh. Shh." Meg whispered.

"Oh Meg…" Her voice was cut off by her sobs. "I cannot believe him, I - I - just cannot b - believe that he would use me like that." She paused to sniff. "And…and to keep that f - fact that he called the police into this … I…" Her cries took over and Meg stood there for a few moments cradling her in her arms until Madame Giry walked over to the pair.

"My dear child, what is done is done. There is no going back. The Vicomte did only what he thought was best for you."

"I know." Christine whispered as she pulled back from Meg. Her eyes were red and bloodshot from the tears. The wetness had made her eyelashes even longer than before but it also had made the skin around the eye quite puffy. It was the first time she had cried in months. "I know." She repeated after she tried to compose herself.

"Come Christine, we must go." Madame Giry instructed with a strict tap from her stick.

Christine frowned and wiped her tears from her face. "Where … w-what are you talking about? Go-go where?"

Madame Giry did not bother with an explanation, instead she gently pulled Christine by the wrist behind her. Meg shot her Mother a look before looking at the puzzled Christine. "As I just said my dear," said Madame Giry as they walked. "there is no going back. There is only going forward; it is the direction that is best for all of us. And it is the direction that looks most kindly upon Erik-"

"I do not understand, Madame." But Christine spoke too soon and gasped as she saw where Madame Giry had brought her.

They now stood outside Christine's old dressing room and the room which held the secret passage way to Erik's lair. "No." She whispered as she turned to the elderly woman. "Please Madame, do not let me face him! Not now-"

"Christine, this may be your only chance." She released her but kept a watchful eye on her.

"Only chance for what?"

Madame Giry, again, ignored her and went to open the door. She stood in the doorway and looked at the two girls. "Megan, wait outside and make sure no one enters, especially the Vicomte. We do not need him barging in here at the wrong moment." Meg nodded her head before seeing her Mother turn her attention towards Christine. "Come inside."

Christine didn't think twice for her curiosity had gotten the better of her and compelled her to go inside the room. As soon as she was within the threshold Madame Giry shut the door and Meg stood in front of it watching the corridor for any signs of movement.

Madame Giry walked straight to the middle of the room and waited for Christine to join her. "Madame, explain yourself-" her eyes had wandered over to her dressing table and noticed something that couldn't have been there before the performance. It was a blood-red rose and Christine knew instantly who it was from. But she frowned when she realised that must have been placed there during or just now for she had not used this room before the performance. _How did he know that I was going to be in here? _"Madame, explain this please." She strode over to it, grabbed it and waved it in front of herself. "Why is this here? How did he know where I would-?"

"Christine, please listen to me dear. Please do not ask questions like that." She motioned for her to sit down but Christine just shook her head and held herself in her arms. "Time is brief and you do not have much time before the Inspector and The Vicomte start to search for us."

"Madame, I-"

"Shh!" She held up a hand silencing her. "You have a choice; either you leave now with your fiancé and never look back upon this place, leave like you intended on doing so-" Christine was about to ask how she knew about their engagement but Madame Giry silenced her again,"-and before you ask: word gets around here quickly, my dear."

Christine nodded. "But what is my other option?"

"Your other option is to go to Erik and convince him to leave here. The police are after him, Christine, you know that and he knows that."

"The Inspector did say that he wanted to know where Erik was hiding but I could never betray him ... not after all that he is done for me."

"Then you shall go to him, warn him."

"Oh Madame, really!" This could never have worked. Christine's doubting eyes met the floor as she folded her arms. "What makes you think that he will listen to me? He has never done so before."

"There is a first time for everything, my child." Madame Giry spoke as she came towards Christine gripping the edge of the dressing table chair. "Have faith in yourself."

Christine dropped her arms, and with the rose still held tightly in one hand, walked past Madame Giry and stood before the great mirror. She sighed. "Even if I wanted to go down there, I do not know how to reveal the passage way."

"How so?" Said Madame Giry, her curiosity growing.

"Well, whenever I was expected down there, Erik would come and get me first or the glass of the mirror would already be gone." She paused to think. "Maybe it slides open from the other side. Madame, might you know another way-?"

The door suddenly opened and in burst a rather flustered looking Meg. "I'm sorry Mama, Christine. I couldn't-"

"Megan, what on Earth are you talking abo-?"

"So that is where the passage is!"

Christine gasped and spun around at the sound of Raoul's voice. She stumbled backwards, shocked at his and the Inspector's sudden appearances, to the glass and shivered when she felt the smooth coldness against her skin. The rose slid out of her hand and landed on the floor silently. Raoul entered the room, eyed Madame Giry and then stalked towards Christine.

"That information, I was afraid, would be tricky to get out of you, my darling. And I was afraid that I would have to waste my time on gathering it, but thank you for your participation." Christine refused to look at his face and hear his narcissistic sounding words. He softly held her by her shoulders and bent his head down to look at her in the eye. "Now, it would help us further if you were to tell us how this passage way opens."

"You should know, you were listening." She hissed at him.

"Monsieur Vicomte," Nadir's calm voice was a breath of fresh air to Christine. "perhaps if you were to be a little bit more kind towards your fiancée then-"

"Are you-" his head spun round to look at the Inspector, "-really trying to tell me how I should treat my soon to be wife?"

"Well, Monsieur, you were saying back there that-"

"Enough!" He growled as he let go of Christine. She exhaled as he removed his hands from her. He saw this and he immediately realised what he had done. _Damn you De Chagny! This is the third time tonight that you have handled her in this way…_ "Christine? Oh, Christine please forgive me! I was just overwhelmed by all that is going on! Believe me! It was not intentionally done! Oh my darling…"

Raoul collected her cold hands in his and kissed them individually. He paused as his lips touched the second-hand, the second-hand which held two rings. His eyes met hers briefly and she saw something shine in his eyes. Whatever it was, it was not good.

He let her hands drop limp to her side and moved away from her slowly. Christine breathed deeply and straightened her posture. "How long, Raoul? How long have you been keeping secrets from me?" She gestured towards Nadir.

Raoul started to speak with his hands up in surrender. "Christine, I only did it for you-"

"You used me as bait, Raoul … as bait!" She hissed once again. "How-" she placed her hand on her chest. "-do you think this makes me _feel? _Knowing that my own fiancé would betray me like that, knowing that he would put my life at risk-"

"Please listen to me, darling-" Raoul pleaded.

"No. No!" Christine felt strong at that moment than ever before. For the first time in her life she had stood up for herself and she had the upper hand here. Not Raoul, but her! And … it felt strange, yet thrilling, exciting! "I do not know how I can trust you now."

Christine was far from being said but, being a woman, she knew that she could just bottle up her emotions for another day.

Nadir approached her but still kept a little distance in front just in case. "Mademoiselle, if I may interject, it would help us-" he glanced at Raoul and then back at Christine, "-it would help me-" he started again, "-if you were to please tell me how to open the passage way."

"I do not know." She managed out as a whisper. "And even if I did know I would not tell you!" She turned and pointed a finger at Nadir. "But do not hold that against me!"

Raoul's shock had turned to anger and all this time it had been brewing up inside of him, waiting to burst. The moment had come for it to be let out. He waltzed straight up to Christine again and immediately she fell timid and shy at his approaching figure. He grabbed her hand and yanked Erik's ring off her finger. He held it in front of her pale face for a moment, wanting both of them to savour this moment. "I told you never to wear this again!" He then threw it across the room. Christine's eyes followed it.

"Move." Raoul whispered.

"What?" Whispered back Christine.

"Move." He said louder this time as he pushed Christine aside making her fall against Nadir.

She apologised to Nadir and then straightened her posture. This wasn't the Raoul she knew and loved - no, this was something else. Another side of Raoul that he had not shown her before, perhaps. _Is this his true self? Surely not…_

Raoul suddenly turned around and stared towards the dressing table. "Raoul?" Asked Christine. He marched straight to the chair and picked it up. "Raoul, what are you doing?" A growing urgency took over her voice as she watched him walk over to the middle of the room. She stared in shock as he forced the chair towards the mirror. "Raoul!"

The glass had shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces which now lay scattered around the floor. A few sharp shards still held their place on the mirror, but only just. Raoul dropped the chair and kicked it to the side.

He looked at Nadir. "Well, are you coming or not?"

Nadir nodded his head slowly after looking at every single person in the room. "Yes."

"Gentlemen!" Madame Giry said just as they proceeded to climb across the mirror frame. "Do not ask me how I know or why I know but if you want to see daylight again, if you want to escape his world, you _must _keep your hand at the level of your eyes at all times! It is the Punjab lasso! He used it on Michot and he will use it on you if you are not careful. Please-" she demonstrated with her own hand, "-like this, Messieurs."

Raoul nodded and then disappeared into the darkness. Nadir lingered and pondered about this woman. "Madame, if we do survive this encounter then you will have a lot to answer for. You will have to tell us everything." She nodded and with that he was gone.

There was then a silence in the room which made all three women feel tense. Madame Giry and her daughter exchanged nervous looks while Christine was frozen to the spot.

"Oh God … what have I done?" She placed her hand on her forehead. "I have led them straight to him!"

Her knees gave way and she collapsed to the ground. Meg was the first over to her and offered her a hand to stand up. She shook her head and stared at the floor. Madame Giry stood over the two watching them closely. Meg looked worryingly at Christine as her expression started to change. She started to breath in and out frantically and move her eyes all over the room.

Her eyes laid on what she was searching for: the ring. Without thinking, Christine started to crawl on all fours towards the ring. "I have to end this." She spoke as she slipped on the ring again. Madame Giry and Meg weren't sure whether she was talking to them or to herself. "I cannot let them hurt him." She stood up and faced the broken mirror. "I will get to him first, I will convince him to leave." She proceeded to move unconsciously towards the passage. "Those two will not know their way in that darkness … but I do. Yes! I can reach him first!"

"Erik will be expecting them to venture down there. He will have something planned, my child, so I would not get your hopes up just yet. He is probably already anticipating their moves and he will set a trap for them, if so."

"Perhaps … but he is also expecting me too." Madame Giry frowned at her statement. "Do not worry Madame, I know what I need to do."

"Christine?" Meg's voice called to her just as she took her leg over the frame. Her head turned to her and Meg smiled kindly. "Be careful."


	32. Christine's choice

The dark is a thing to fear, and is a thing feared by many people. No one is sure what or who may be lurking in the shadows before them. There are people who are frightened of the night and who seek out the light of the sun as they wish to escape the clutches of darkness. Christine was not one of those people. For the first time in her life she was grateful for the continuing darkness which surrounded her. It led all the way down to the catacombs and would no doubt make Raoul and Nadir become lost within it.

She found herself running, through the passage way in the opposite direction of the two men, almost tripping over her trailing delicate dress in the progress. She gathered up the ends of her dress and gripped them tightly whilst keeping her feet moving forwards. Her unsteady breathing increased as she flicked some unwanted strands of hair away from her face and began to doubt her assumption.

_They are going to kill him, you have you make your feet move faster! _She told herself for the sixth time in two minutes. But no matter how hard and quickly she ran, no matter how dark it was, Christine still questioned whether or not she would reach Erik before the others. She knew the way, even when she was blinded by the darkness, she knew the way. However it was all the matter of time in hand, and it was running out.

Christine was so preoccupied in running that she had misplaced her footing and had stumbled. This would not have been a problem and she would have continued with her running if there was not a pile of bricks lying carelessly around the floor. Her right foot landed upon one brick and the other foot hit the front of a stack of them making Christine fall forward and onto pile below her. Her hands slammed down in front to prevent any damage being done to her whilst trying to avoid any more unseen objects. And yet that was easier said than done. Her hands had skidded on the ground, closely followed by one of her arms which she had set down to steady herself, and they immediately started to sting.

She sat up and flexed her sore hands and arm slowly. Her fingers of one hand touched the palm of the other and felt tens of tiny stones engraved there in her skin. But she also felt something else, a slight wetness which she knew to be blood. She ignored the fact that she was bleeding and the fact that her hands and now her knees stung, wiped the stones away, and began to stand up. Christine winced ever so slightly as she tried to stand up but ended up resulting in one knee giving way. She huffed and stepped carefully, step by step, so that she wouldn't fall over anything more. But it wasn't until she took her second step that she realised that her ankle was twisted. A little thing like this wasn't going to stop her now though and so she continued to walk, or should I say limped, forward towards the lair.

* * *

"Why did you not bring any sort of lighting with you?" Asked a still fuming Raoul.

Nadir rolled his eyes at the Vicomte behind him and said, "How on Earth was I suppose to know it was going to be this dark? And anyway we have some light do we not?" He gestured to the miniscule match in his hand which bared a small flame.

"Oh I am so sorry, I forgot, please forgive me." He said both bitterly and sarcastically.

"Monsieur, your quarrel is with your fiancée and so I would thank you kindly for not taking your ignorance out on me."

Raoul pressed his lips together to refrain himself from expressing an insult in Nadir's direction. This man was really starting to get on Raoul's nerves. He clicked his tongue. "How long do you suppose it will be before we reach the catacombs?"

"It is…" Nadir strained his eyes to see if there was a possibility of any light source in front of them. There wasn't. "It is hard to say." He turned to look behind them just in case they were being followed; thankfully they weren't. But Nadir huffed when he saw the Vicomte's hand by his side and not up by his face, like his was. "Monsieur!" He said, now annoyed. "What did that woman say?" Nadir grabbed Raoul's hand and forced it back up by his face. "Your hand at the level of your eyes, it is a matter of life or death."

Raoul eyed him for a moment before indicating that he wanted to keep moving. A few minutes of walking in silence and two matches later, Raoul started to get anxious. "Inspector?"

"Yes?"

"What exactly is the plan? No offence intended, I have heard of your success, but we have ventured down here without any back up or anything and I was just wondering how you were planning on capturing this murderer?"

"Well, when I was informed of this Phantom fellow I was given a diagram of the whole opera house and my men and I immediately started to get to work finding out everything we could about the layout of the building. And as you can see there were a few things that were not included in it." He gestured to the passage way they were in. "We then went about looking at every possible hiding place and exit that is in offer, and I must say that this is extremely well-built. But back to the point; I have posted officers at every one of those exits so if The Phantom tries to escape he will fail."

"That is all very good, yet you have not explained what we will be doing down there if we do get the chance to kill him."

"I am very grateful that I am the only one carrying a gun out of the two of us, Monsieur Moncharmin and Monsieur have told me of your 'eagerness' to use one." Nadir couldn't help but smirk.

Raoul ignored him. "It is a pity that Christine did not choose to compromise and show us the way, that would have been so much easier."

"Yes." He spoke in thought. "I will have to question her about her motives and about why she chose to refuse to help … But this Phantom being a murderer or not will still be taken to court for a trial." He then threw the burnt match on the ground and lit another one.

Raoul looked absolutely dumbstruck by Nadir's words. "But Inspector, why would you even think of giving him a trial? The madman is a murderer, he cannot be allowed to continue his reign any longer! And another thing…" Raoul's words trailed off as he slowed to a stop.

Nadir turned around to see if he was in any danger but saw him staring at his feet. Raoul's head didn't move as he said to Nadir, "The light, shine it down there, I think I may have found something."

Nadir moved his hand and the match towards the ground and smiled when he saw what Raoul was talking about. It was a trap door. Both men crouched beside it and Nadir cautiously reached out a hand towards the round handle. Raoul's eyes flickered towards Nadir and then back to the door, worried if something bad would happen if they opened it. His worried ness was put in place when Nadir drew back the door to reveal nothing, just darkness.

Raoul frowned. "Where do you think this leads?"

Nadir leaned his hand which held the match as far down as it could go before answering. "Well, the catacombs are a series of floors below us so I would presume that down would be out best chance to find him. After all, I have been told that no one has been down there in years and those who have been there have forgotten the way."

"But did they forget by choice or by force…?" Raoul muttered under his breath as he peered into the darkness. "OK well, who goes down first?"

Nadir answered his question by sitting on the edge with his legs dangling into the darkness, placing the still lit match beside Raoul, and then by pushing himself down below.

"Oh, I guess that would be you then." He said before jumping down into the darkness after Nadir.

The drop was about ten feet and Raoul landed with a thud and a groan on a strange material which felt like sand. His hands touched the material and confirmed that it was sand. "Inspector? Inspector, where are you…?" Raoul stood up quickly trying to figure out where they were.

There was an awful amount of light in this room and what was even stranger was that there were about fifteen, no, at least twenty full length mirrors occupied all around the room. Raoul turned and turned on the spot trying to make sense of this room.

"Monsieur Vicomte! I am over here." Nadir called out to him.

Raoul was not sure where the voice had come from and he took a moment to find Nadir. He was standing not too far away from him and Raoul made his way over to him. His confusion rose even further when he saw that instead of Nadir becoming bigger as he approached, instead became smaller. A few muttered words escaped Raoul's mouth as he reached out towards what he thought was to be Nadir, only to find out that it was glass. He had been fooled by a reflection.

A hand on Raoul's shoulder made him spin in fright as he did not see any one coming towards him in the mirror. His heart rate calmed when he saw Nadir standing to the side of him looking as puzzled as he was.

The two proceeded to keep to the centre of the room back to back as they scanned the bright room with their eyes. While doing so, they noticed that the room's temperature was increasing ever so slowly. They both took their jackets off and threw them to the floor as their attempt to keep cool under this rising heat.

"Where the hell are we, Inspector?" Raoul questioned as he undid the top button of his shirt, trying to capture as much air as possible.

"Well I will tell you one thing," said Nadir as he reached for the gun in his sling, finger ready on the safety switch, "this definitely was not on the diagram…"

* * *

After what seemed like a very long time, Christine finally had reached the, not surprisingly, opened door. She went through it and saw the familiar spiral staircase leading down to the upcoming lake. She tried to make her way as best she could down the many steps but found that hopping was much easier; so she gripped the hand rails and made her way down on one foot.

She then made her way very quietly, just in case Raoul and Nadir were close by, along the narrow passage next to the lake. To her surprise there were no rats scuttling around her feet, this made Christine a little bit more at ease. She then stopped in her tracks as she came to the end of the passage and the start of the open lake. She frowned when she saw that there was no boat waiting for her, but then again, why would there be? Erik knew the police were after him and so why would he offer a source of transportation for them to use?

The only available option was to swim. She wasn't going to pester Erik to bring the boat around, not under these circumstances. And so she slipped off her dainty shoes, massaged her twisted ankle as best she could, and then got ready to jump in. She didn't have time to think about how cold the water would be for she had already taken a deep breath and plunged herself into the smooth waves. The water was much colder than she had hoped and attacked her like a thousand tiny knives as soon as she made contact with it. The water made her hands and arm sting even more but she was determined to reach the other side. Unfortunately, her sore foot struggled to keep up with the rest of her paddling body and Christine felt her foot gradually fall limp. Her arms moved frantically around in the water as she forced herself to stay afloat.

The entire swim, more like doggy paddle, towards the lair had been harder and more tiring than she had expected. Christine clambered up and out of the water and sat on the embankment of the lake coughing out any unwanted obtained liquid that had made its way into her mouth. She was soaked to the bone and she became aware that her thin dress was clutching all too well at her corset. However; this wasn't the time to be embarrassed and so stood up, wobbling slightly as she found her balance again.

"Erik?" She said as she walked through the lair, running her hands through her wet hair. It seemed to be empty, yet Christine was too wary of Erik to know that he was there and so she continued her search. "Erik, are you here? Where are you?"

Each vigilant step that Christine took going further into the empty lair only made her worry that she was too late. Maybe they had already arrested him, maybe that one trip that she had cost him his freedom. Maybe they hadn't even bothered with an arrest and maybe they shot him right then and there. _Christine, you mustn't think the worst!_

"Oh, can I not?" She whispered to herself, alone.

Christine's legs were rooted to the spot as her thoughts dived into the worst case scenario that she could think of. If these thoughts were true, it would truly have been her fault, and her fault alone, that Erik's life was over. She could have never forgiven herself for that and would have lived the remainder of her days being haunted by her past. She felt her eyes welling up and gradually, as if teasing her, one tear escaped her tear duct and rolled down her cheek. She gasped and traced the line of fresh wetness on her face.

Caught up in her thoughts, Christine did not manage to hear someone approaching her from behind. A hand reached out and its fingertips lightly touched Christine's shoulder causing her to whirl around. She had already automatically reached out and grabbed this person's wrist. Her heart began to slow as she saw who it was. For the first time ever Christine hadn't had been so thrilled to see that brilliant white mask that cupped Erik's face. A wash of relief passed over her and she immediately released her grip on him that for some reason he had allowed her to have.

"Erik." She breathed staring at him with huge eyes. "I … I thought the worst." She brought her hands up to her face to stop him having the chance to see her in tears.

"Christine." He replied with that on going emotion that he had with her on stage. She realised that he was still in the moment when they had held each other for the first time… He never removed his eye contact from her glistening eyes as he took a gentle hold of Christine's wrists and brought them down from her face. "Christine, why are you crying?"

She managed an uncharacteristic laugh as she stared at their hands. Erik was caught off guard as he had not been expecting this. "It seems that you have always been there when I cried," she spoke between sobs. "you were always there…"

Erik's eyes had wandered from her face down her body, just then realising that she must have swum here, to look at their hands also. He frowned when he turned them, over and saw faint scars running from her palm all the way down to her arm. "You are hurt." He said abruptly.

"Just a scratch, all I did was fall." She said as she gazed at his face.

"Come, we will need to get the wound clean anyhow-"

His words were cut off by Christine's sudden movement. She had unconsciously pulled free of his hands and threw her own arms around his neck, as if not really believing that he was there. Erik was absolutely shocked, this was the last thing that he had expected her to do. His hands clumsily made their way to the top of her back and that was where they stayed briefly before he allowed them to drop limply by his side.

Christine suddenly pulled away from him, as if she suddenly became aware of her actions. "Oh, I almost forgot!" Having her back in his embrace in the space of not thirty minutes, even if it was only briefly, was enough for him. However, seeing the fear that had clouded her eyes had immediately snapped him out of the moment. "Erik, Oh God, you must leave, now! There is no time, no time at all-" the words spilled out of her mouth as she tried to haul Erik to the boat. "-the police, they are after you! They will come for you! I, I thought the worst a moment ago. I thought they had already caught you. But they have not so you must leave!" She let go of Erik and turned her back him. Her voice was strangely quiet. "Do forgive me, had I but known of the police's involvement I would not have gone through with it. Raoul tricked me, he…"

She spun around, her thought's had turned to Raoul and his whereabouts. "Raoul, where is he? And the Inspector! They came down here looking for you just before I did!"

"Oh, I know." Erik spoke very chillingly as he paced backwards away from Christine. His light-hearted feelings had gone and had now been replaced with The Phantom's threatening charisma. "Do not worry, they are not going anywhere." He smirked to himself.

"What, what do you mean?" She said, wiping her face clean of tears and unwanted pieces of hair. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched him lean against the wall next to the door she remembered to be the torture chamber. A small high-pitched noise, formerly a weak scream, arose from her throat as she put two and two together. "Inspector?" She whispered, then running towards the door shouting, "Raoul!"

Inside the torture chamber, the heat had almost become intolerable for the two men and had now started to lose all their energy. They were lying on the floor, breathing heavily hoping for the chance of freedom, a cool breeze, anything… They did not receive any of those options but instead they received a sound. It was the glorious sound that Raoul recognised to be his beloved Christine.

"Raoul!" She shouted once again and stopped her running to listen. Raoul thought for a moment that he may have been hearing things, but sat up anyway. His doubts were gone when he saw Nadir push himself up onto his elbows listening for that voice to speak again. "Answer me!"

"Christine..." Raoul said, forcing himself to stand up. "Christine." Both Raoul and Nadir then said her name a few more times and each time their volume increased.

Christine smiled when she heard their voices. They were unharmed. She ran for the door again. Unfortunately; Erik's strong hands held her back from reaching the door, but no matter how hard she fought against him, his strength was always going to way above her own. "Raoul!" She screamed again. "Inspector-!"

Her words were muffled into a silence as Erik pressed his hand sharply against her mouth.

"Let them go-!" Was all she managed after he repositioned his hand and let his grip loosen ever so slightly. "Erik, let me go!"

"Let _them _go, let _you _go, my my! It would appear that you cannot make your mind up." He slid one hand down to her hand, took both rings from her hand and wrapped that arm around her neck so the two bands were shining in front of her. "That is not a very good thing to hear, Christine, given that your lover and the other have only at best ten minutes left. Listen to them, Christine." He purred. "You have to free them, it is only the right thing to do, but ah if you do then-" he smiled as he tightened his grip with the arm that was held around the front of her stomach, "-then you have agreed to stay with me as my bride."

Christine's little eyes grew huge as she forced her head around to stare at Erik. _His … bride? _"Your what?" She hissed.

"My bride, my wife, my living wife!" He brought his head down so that the mask was touching the side of her pale face. "How many ways do I have to say it?" He growled.

Christine shut her eyes and shook her head pretending that this was merely a dream . "No." She said as she forced back any more tears. She couldn't bear to shed one single tear for Erik now. "I cannot, you cannot make me."

"No?" He questioned. "They can survive but a few more minutes, Christine-" Erik licked his lips, enjoying every moment of this. "Start a new life with me! Forget him! You said yourself, Christine, that I should leave this place. I would not have gone so easily but with you by my side, well,-" he smiled and breathed onto her neck. "-what man would not resist?"

"Please!" She knew pleading was not an option, but she could always try. "Erik, please, have mercy. Release them! Let them live!"

"Make your choice!" Erik let his hands slide off of her suddenly, but before he moved away he placed both rings in her hand.

Christine didn't look more helpless in all her life. Her teacher, her friend was gone. This was not the person she knew Erik to be. Unless the mask did more than just hide his face, but his personality too. She opened her palm and stared at the two rings which had brought her both happiness and trouble. Raoul and the Inspector's cries were decreasing in strength and will and she knew that they did not have much time left. But then again, neither did Erik…

Her choice was a heavy burden. Her soul was cut into two, her heart into two. And yet her body stayed where it was, unable to move, unable to do anything but think. She watched Erik, that poor pitiful angry creature, back away from her with all emotion from his face, in his _eyes_, gone. A marriage, let alone a forced marriage, was scary enough to be placed upon the shoulders of a naïve young girl, barely a woman. But yes, she loved Raoul, more than anything. He deserved to live. And Erik deserved a chance of freedom…

She knew what she must do in that moment.

"Erik?" She said, her voice hoarse, lacking the confidence needed. She picked up Erik's ring, placed it on her finger, dropped Raoul's to the floor and stared at him. "I have chosen. Erik, I will be your bride!"

Erik stood there staring at his Christine, not daring to believe what she had just uttered from her lips.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter and sorry about the cliffhanger there! But this was quite tough for me to write and I am not entirely satisfied with it, so forgive me if it's not the best of chapters! Review please? They make my day:)**


	33. Torn

**I had the final rehearsals for my school's production of The Tempest all last week and we had our performance on Wednesday so that's the reason for the late update. Oh and I would like to make a special thank you to Partypenguina3 for all the recent lovely reviews! ... And now on with the story:) ...**

* * *

"What … what did you say?"

Erik stood frozen to the spot, surely his ears had played a trick on him, surely Christine had not agreed. And yet here she stood confidently, he could see her bottom lip quivering slightly, but she had _his _ring on her finger! Was it a dream? Had she really just said …

"I will be your wife." Christine repeated, more convincingly than before. She looked at him in the eye and used her well received acting skills to forge a smile on her pale face. However, she dared not to move towards or away from him, afraid of what he would do.

Erik let out a laugh at not believing his own ears. He walked right next to her, hands clenched. For a moment Christine's face lit up thinking that he was going to set Raoul and Nadir free, but no. Erik mistook her look as her attempt to convince him. Striding right past her, he gave her an unreadable glare and then continued walking in that direction.

Christine followed him with her hope filled doe-like eyes, her hands now trembling. She slowly turned on the spot to see Erik with his back to her. He looked tense, stressed. But still she waited for him to do something, say something, anything!

He let out another laugh. This laugh was louder and it echoed through the lair eerily. "Your acting skills are impressive, my dear." He twirled around on the spot so that she could feel the wrath of his hostile eyes. "And yet, I still do not believe you. You lack conviction."

"Oh, Erik! Believe me!" Christine picked up the wet hem of her dress and ran a few more steps towards him, still wary of her twisted ankle. "You promised you would release them at my word!" She yelled at him.

Erik turned, not baring to see the heart-broken look upon his innocent faced protégée.

"What can I do to prove my choice?" He ignored her words and so Christine brought a softer and calmer tone to her voice. "Erik? What can I do?"

She saw his back stiffen as he took a tense intake of breath. Her head shook at the sight of him, her feet unconsciously moving towards him. The cries of her lover and his acquaintance had been silenced in her mind as she focused all her thoughts on the one and only person that could save them.

"Prove it." He whispered harshly. "Prove your devotion lies with me. One lifetime is all I ask, Christine. You would not want to let your mentor down would you?"

Christine looked down at the ring on her finger and gasped. It was a perfect fit. She found this very strange that she was noticing this in the situation that they were in, but it just added to the mere mystery of this masked man. Christine sighed. He was more than just a mask; behind was a man, just like everyone else ... only the world could not see that. And neither could Christine. Yes, she appreciated what he had given her but that did not make up for the lies and the cruelty that he also provided her.

And yet all the while, Christine kept remembering that the police were coming for him. She knew in that instance that she would do anything in her power to make sure he got out safely. Even if that did mean for her to be swept away with him, concealed to the shadows, forced to live a life on the run.

"Prove it?" She whispered, only audible for herself to hear. Her hand reached out timidly towards his shoulder but she couldn't bring herself to touch him. She allowed her hand to drop limp beside her as she used her voice, that voice in which he loved dearly, to try to get his attention. "Erik, I am wearing your ring, I have chosen! What more could you possibly want from me?"

To be honest, Erik had no idea what he was doing or asking of her. Christine had chosen him, and he questioned himself why he was not fleeing with her right this very minute? Who cared about De Chagny?

Erik sighed. Christine cared about the boy, he could see that, yet he did not want to release him upon her word.

Christine really couldn't understand Erik at times and yet at this moment she did. She remembered once, when they had first met, he had told her that one day she would understand. And through all that she had been put through, through all that he had given and taken, all he ever wanted was a little compassion, a little emotion given back to him. He had gone his whole life without a friendly face, or anyone in fact there beside him. Erik was more alone than Christine had ever imagined anyone to be.

While in her thoughts Christine came across something that she remembered Raoul had told her: actions speak louder than words. But until this moment, Christine never would have agreed with that statement. But now considering the circumstances…

She summoned all her remaining strength and laid a hand on Erik's shoulder. The cold contact of their skin made him shiver. "Erik, turn around please."

"Why?" He said sharply. "So that I can witness my triumph but your end? So that I can savour the very moment that your eyes are bereft of life?" He smirked. "I do not want to take that unholy pleasure, my dear."

Christine took a deep breath, ignoring what he had just said to her. "Turn around."

Erik did so reluctantly. He stared at the ground though as a sort of compromise with his himself not to look at her face. "Christine…"

She did not waste any time in doing what she set out to do. With her ringed finger she titled his chin up to face her directly in the eye, but that deep look that he gave her almost made her shed more tears. She carefully placed her free hand on his masked cheek. Erik sighed and unconsciously leaned into her touch. Christine couldn't help smile over this as she placed her other hand on the other cheek and very slowly pulled his head down hers. Her wet eyelashes closed the moment their unfamiliar lips met.

It was a soft kiss and was nothing compared to what Christine had shared with Raoul, but as her lips touched his she felt a sudden spark. Her curiosity developed and she wanted to learn more.

Erik, on the other hand, was frozen with disbelief. The woman he loved was kissing him! His lips, his inexperienced lips, were rigid under Christine's tender touch. However he could not allow such a beautiful creature to touch, let alone kiss, a monster as he. And so; his dark eyes were wide as he quickly removed her hands from his face making her pull back in confusion. Their breathing was both equal and heavy. "Christine. What … what are you doing?"

Her head was still very close to his and so she silently leaned back towards him looking between his eyes and his lips. Her hands explored the area around his neck and she pulled him closer to him than before. Her breath was warm against Erik's chin, and it made him shudder with unfamiliar delight. Christine murmured against the opening of his lips. "I am making my choice."

Any words of protest on Erik's part were silenced as Christine brushed her lips with his once more. This time, Erik gave in and kissed her back. His hands nervously rested upon her slim waist as his chest heaved, his heart a flutter. Christine parted his lips open and slowly caressed her tongue with his. A knot formed low in Erik's stomach and he let out a soft moan.

An unexpected pleasure overcome the two which they knew they couldn't fight any longer. They had succumbed to their unspoken bond.

As perfect as this moment was for Erik, he couldn't bare it any longer. He pulled away from her and stared at the wall. Christine had just given him something that no one had ever given him: a taste of joy.

Christine reached out for Erik, yearning for his touch once again. Yet as she neared him, he abruptly moved away from her shaking his head. Tears brew in his eyes and he bit his lip hard to stop them from spilling. Gradually he turned to face Christine, whose arms were reaching for him, and who was not shaking any longer. His eyes closed, wanting to remember this moment.

Erik then re-opened them and in a flash vanished up a rusty key from what seemed like thin air. His hands were a blur as he marched over to the torture chamber door and proceeded to move his hands about the door, flipping a switch, pulling a leaver and what not. His final move was the key, and with one turn it was all over.

The door swung open and Erik disappeared for a few long seconds. Christine limped towards the door, unsure what was happening. When he reemerged, he was not alone. He carried two bodies with him, and to Christine's delight, they were alive. The torture chamber door slammed shut and Erik dropped the two men on the ground before retreating away from them.

Christine didn't hesitate but half limped half ran to comfort them. She checked the Inspector first who was drenched in sweat, but alive none the less. She offered to help him to his feet, but he kindly refused, managing to wobble his way up himself. Her eyes then travelled from him to Raoul. Christine gripped onto his wet damp shirt and shook him gently. At a first glance he seemed to be lifeless but it wasn't until she felt his chest move under her hands that she knew he was alright. A wave of relief washed over her and she beamed when she saw him open his eyes. He was straining to see anything but as soon as his Christine came into view he pulled her into his embrace.

Erik was fuming. He shook with anger as he watched that boy lay his hands on what was his. His eyes burned with jealousy as he saw Christine stroke her lover's face. The content look upon their faces made him ache inside. His fingers unconsciously moved upwards to stroke his mask, wishing deeply that it was him that Christine was comforting and not that undeserving Vicomte.

And that was when he knew that he couldn't go through with it. He couldn't force Christine, even if she was obliging, to follow him. No, she belonged to that boy. And as much as it pained Erik to make this uncharacteristic decision he slipped back into the darkness and leaned against the wall, waiting for the right moment. He watched the lover's embrace, each kiss seeming like a dagger piercing from within him.

"Raoul, are you alright?" Christine asked.

"Yes. But it is-" His back arched as he coughed violently. "-it is strange weather we are having at this season … it is so … so warm." Raoul smiled at his attempt to make a joke of the situation.

Christine frowned at this, but was thankful that he was alive. She touched his face and sighed. "And are you alright, Monsieur?" She said turning to face Nadir.

"A little light-headed, Mademoiselle." Nadir began as he tried to comb his sweat stricken hair back into place. "But I assure you we both are fine."

Christine nodded and risked a glance over at Erik, but as soon as she met his eyes, guilt flooded within her. She hung her head down low, low enough for her not to see Nadir advancing on Erik slowly. His gun was not drawn, in fact he was not sure exactly where he had left it. Either his saviour had taken the pleasure of taking it or it had simply fallen out of his hand in the torture chamber. Nevertheless, unarmed, he approached the dark figure with an expression of recognition upon his face.

"E-Erik?" Nadir stopped in his tracks and Christine's head snapped up as she heard her mentor's name being uttered by someone who was not her. "No … it cannot be you! I …I .. in Persia …" He laughed. "We caught you … we _hung _you! You are supposed to be dead!"

Erik made a sweeping gesture at himself amongst the darkness. "And yet here I stand. And now you understand why my title is so becoming of me … I really am a Phantom in your eyes, Nadir." He smirked and deliberately did not make eye contact with Christine. "Or, _Inspector _Nadir as you are now known, yes?"

Raoul, slipping in and out of consciousness, was not witness to this. Christine still held him though as she stared in disbelief between the two thought to be strangers. _Persia? When was he …? There is so much about his past that I do not know, yet I wonder, was he ever planning on telling me this … or as a matter of fact, anything? Did he know that it was his acquaintance in the chamber? How on Earth do they know each other? _

"You are certainly full of surprises, I must say! Fooling the police is one thing Erik, but escaping Persia unrecognised is a whole different thing entirely. How … how did you manage it?"

Erik's mouth twitched and his eyes quickly flickered towards Christine. "I am not at liberty to say." He said as he began to edge further into the friendly shadows so that Nadir couldn't see him at all.

Nadir laughed as he began to search the darkness. "Still up to your old tricks, huh? Still hiding in the shadows? It is not going to work this time, we have this place surrounded. My men are searching for your hide out as we speak. There is no way out this time, Erik."

"Ah," He threw his voice out, making it seem he was in more than once place at once. It was a true ghost-like quality he had learned to perfect over the years. "but you forget that you are with Erik, alone in _his _domain, and you have no back up except an unconscious little rich boy." He chuckled. "You do not even have your gun."

"Erik, please." Christine's voice hit Erik like a gun shot. His eyes focused only on her. "Please," She said again as she yanked herself and the head spun Raoul to their feet. "do not do anything you will regret. I gave you my word, now let them leave this place."

Nadir raised a concerned eyebrow. "What word, pray, have you given him, mademoiselle?"

"That is none of your business." Erik snapped.

"Oh but it is, Erik!" Nadir exclaimed to the darkness. "If this child has made any sort of sacrifice on her behalf, release her from it!"

"Monsieur, you do not understand." Spoke Christine. "I have bargained and I cannot go back on my word."

"Mademoiselle, I-" Nadir started.

"No, I have chosen to remain here with Erik, willingly." She stood strong as she spoke.

Nadir was grief-stricken. "You are making a big mistake, mademoiselle." He growled. "My men are hunting him as we speak. If he escapes and word gets out to the involved in Persia then _they _will be hunting him as well. And if you escape with him, well, let us just say that all of Paris will be hunting him as well as you!"

Christine swallowed any fear those words brought her and spoke, "Monsieur, your words do not frighten me. I am not a child. Now go."

"But-"

"Go! Take Raoul with you..." She trailed off as he fluttered his eyes open. "Raoul!" She said, gently lying him on the floor. "Raoul are you alright?"

"Yes … dearest." He stroked the side of her face clumsily with his limp hand. "Now that you .. are here .. with me." His eyes wandered. "Where. Exactly. Are we. Though?" He seemed out of breath**. **

"You are in deep in the catacombs, Monsieur, in the Phantom's lair." Spoke Nadir who offered him a steady hand up.

Raoul accepted the hand, pulled himself up, and immediately wobbled suffering from head rush. Christine's hands were there to steady him, but Raoul did not seem to notice. "Where is he, Inspector?" Raoul stared at Nadir. "Where is he? I will kill him!"

Erik suppressed a laugh at his statement, but unfortunately some sound was let out into the open and his hiding place was compromised. All three heads turned to where he was standing. "I see your humour has not left you, Monsieur." Erik said icily.

"Monsieur," whispered Nadir into Raoul's ear. "I would advise you to not lash out at this man. You do not know his capability as I do."

"Where is your gun?" Raoul demanded.

"I do not have it!" Nadir breathed evenly and tried to calm the Vicomte down. "Monsieur, calm yourself, please! Anyway; _he _is right about one thing, we cannot do this alone. I, myself, should know that. And if I had known who we were dealing with then I certainly would not have allowed you to come with me, monsieur!"

As this banter carried out, following Raoul stumbling around the lair searching with Nadir trailing behind him, Christine wore but one expression on her face. Anxiety. She pleaded with those huge eyes, begging Erik not to harm them. She just hoped that he could see her and that she could see him.

"You will not win, Sir!" Nadir teased. "The police will come."

Erik stared at Christine and suddenly he realised that he was a fool to not heed her warning before. _Stupid, stupid Erik! Why must you make the poor child be caught up in this mess? Why must you make her choose? She loves that boy, humph, that ignorant boy! And yet, she loves him and not you! … I cannot make her follow me … I cannot do that … Christine has given me one moment of joy, that is enough for a lifetime to me! And I would be impertinent to deprive her of her joy…_

Erik then allowed the ghostly persona which he had come to know all too well to take over and control him. He could not bare to see Christine with that boy any longer. Jealousy had been a powerful mistress to him. "Go." He whispered, throwing his voice once more.

Nadir, who had still been talking, stopped and turned on the spot. "What? You are giving up? Just like that?"

"I said go!" Erik screamed at the top of his lungs. "Go now! Leave me!"

Nadir took his words very seriously and obeyed gently towing Raoul towards the boat. "We can return with force, Monsieur. Do not forget that."

Raoul heavily nodded his head and turned to Christine. "Come. Christine. Now." His breath was short and his words were strained. "_Now_." He repeated sternly as he began to pull her with him inside the boat.

Christine watched, and it pained her to see the lair vanish from within her view. Nadir controlled the unsteady boat as he steered it through the lake. Perhaps what the worst part of it was that she Christine could hear Erik's sobs and his organ, his angry sobs and music, in the distance. And knowing that she had caused him, pained her.

"No." She whispered.

"What. Did you. Say?" Raoul said between breaths.

Christine spun out of Raoul's grasp, making the boat wobble. "I said no." She continued speaking as she avoided Raoul's glare. "It cannot end like this Raoul, not like this. I have to say one final goodbye."

"But why? Why give that _thing _what he wants?"

It mentally hurt Christine when she heard her fiancé call Erik a 'thing'. "He is not a _thing_, Raoul. You owe him a lot more than you give him credit for."

"Like what?" He spoke flatly.

"For one thing, without him, I would never have had the courage to venture out onto the stage. For another thing, you would never have recognised me." Raoul was about to interject when Christine stopped him. "Do not deny it, Raoul. Remember when we first met at the Opera, you did not recognise me, and yet you flirted with me? I was just a pretty face to you then … but that is all I have ever been to you, is it not?"

"Oh Christine, no-"

She laughed. "Ha, how could I have been so stupid? How could I have allowed you to fill my head with your words, making me think that I loved you? I am just a prize to you, something to show off. A pretty little wife-to-be, am I not right?" She laughed again. "God I have been a fool!"

"I do not care." He growled. "He is a murderer."

"And despite all odds-" She felt a silent tear roll down her already wet face. Why must she always cry in _his _presence? "-despite all odds, he is a good man." She huffed when she saw Raoul's reaction. "Which is more than can be said about you, at the moment!"

Raoul laughed and began to speak, his breath slowly returning to him. "Are you really … saying ... That ... That … he is above me?".

"Lately … yes." She began to back away from him, towards the edge of the boat. "Lately, you have been different. You have changed, Raoul. I just hope that it is not for the worst."

"Come back here! I am not allowing you to go back to _him_! You belong to me-"

"No, Raoul! No." And with that she turned her back on him.

"Monsieur, we can return. We can return…" Nadir's words meant nothing to Raoul.

"Christine!" Raoul yelled.

"Five minutes, please." Christine pleaded. "Wait for me at the other end of the lake. I will come. Just give me five minutes."

Raoul gritted his teeth and threw his arms up in irritation. "Very well; but mark my words Christine Daaé, if you do not come back then it will not be the last you have heard of me."

She nodded and plunged herself into the cold water once more, kicking furiously to reach the embankment quickly. Five minutes was enough time, she hoped, to convince Erik of her choice and to escape with him unknown and unseen to Raoul.

Christine pulled herself up out of the water and shook her head, water droplets flying everywhere. She stepped deep into the lair, following Erik's cries, but what she saw scared her. In the short amount of time that she had been away, barely two minutes, he had wrecked the whole layout. His sheet music, some torn, was spread out all over the floor. His organ bench was tipped over and the drapes which had covered the other rooms were shredded and yanked down. And then she noticed the organ itself. She gasped as she saw that some keys had been pulled clean off and others had been smashed.

"Erik, where are you?"

"Go … away…"

Even the Opera Ghost himself could not hide from Christine, for she found him within a heartbeat of his voice. He was curled up into a small ball behind the pillar, mask still intact. Christine ran to him and the sight of him brought more tears to her eyes. She bent down so that she was level with him and timidly wrapped her arms around him. She hated seeing him like this, and was not always sure how he would react. In this case, Erik was rigid as a corpse in her embrace, and yet his tears still flowed down his porcelain mask.

"Why are you here?" Erik asked, his authority had returned and all signs of weakness had left him.

Christine turned his head towards her, savouring the sweet look in his shady eyes. "I have chosen, have I not? A bargain is a bargain." And with that she removed his mask.

* * *

**I promise you fluff in the next chapter! **


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